


King's Ale

by VeronicaFerCard



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Arthur, POV Merlin, POV Multiple, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3489455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeronicaFerCard/pseuds/VeronicaFerCard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin was five Uther Pendragon killed his parents and got away with it, taking the company they had built together and making it his own family business. Now, Merlin was back in Camelot to assume the place that was rightfully his in the company that should also hold his name, and to make Uther pay for what he did. But before he could even get to Uther, Merlin met Arthur and realised his revenge was going to demand a price higher than Merlin had been willing to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place in 2013, which was when I started writing this fic. As usual, I’m way too lazy to do proper research so I just make things up that seem to make sense, at least to me. Comments are deeply appreciated.

 

**1988**

The party was going on in its full mode, loud music and all that. All around him there were people with champagne glasses raised high above their heads. The countdown had already started and Uther couldn’t find his friends anywhere. They had so many reasons to celebrate; he would not miss the opportunity to toast the New Year with them. After wandering a while through the de Bois mansion Igraine finally caught up with him when he was heading to the kitchen.

 _“Ten, nine…”_ said the voices around him in unison.

“Uther, where were you?” Uther almost jumped out of his skin for he was looking at the opposite direction and had not seen her coming.

“Do you have any idea how big your parent’s house is? Where’s everybody?” He asked her instead of answering her question.

She took him by the arm and directed him to the front yard as she spoke. “As a matter of fact, I do, seeing as I grew up here and all. Come on, we’re going to miss it,” she said as she guided the both of them through the crowd.

_“Three, Two...”_

They reached the front yard and found Balinor with a concern look on his face and Hunith nowhere to be seen.

 _“Happy New Year,”_ said the people around them. Balinor did not say anything as Uther approached him.

“Happy New Year, Bay!” Uther put his arms around Balinor, giving him a bear like hug. “Where’s Hunith?”

“Happy New Year, Uther,” he said, letting go of him and then looked beside Uther and nodded, “Igraine.” She nodded back and Balinor turned to Uther. “One of the housekeepers just came to say our nanny was on the line. She never calls unless it’s an emergency. We’re afraid something’s happened to Merlin.”

Uther had known Balinor for practically all his life, the man was rough around the edges; few things in this life could scare him off. And Merlin was his kryptonite, the boy was usually very healthy but every time he got sick things had the tendency to get real ugly, real quickly. Uther was just about to ask if there was anything he could do when Hunith came back from the house.

“She said he’s feverish and crying. He’s calling for us.” She had the same expression her husband had, she said everything in one go and only when she stopped she seemed to notice Uther and Igraine’s presence. “Oh, happy New Year, my dears. Sorry, for this but I’m afraid we have to go.”

“There’s no problem, Hunith. All of us have kids here, we understand,” Igraine said in her kind and reassuring tone.

“Well, then.” Balinor gave a step forward and two steps back. He bounced a little on his feet and the only thing that kept him from falling on his arse was Uther’s hands, steading him. “Whoa!”

“Oh my God, how much have you had to drink?” Uther said as he released his grip on Balinor’s arms after making sure he wasn’t going to fall.

“Oh, God! What we’re going to do now? You know I don’t have a license, Balinor.”

“Calm down, Hunith. Bay thought we were all going to crash here. There was no way he’d know Merlin would get sick. Give me the keys, I’ll drive you.”

“No, we can’t take you away from your party, it’s not fair,” Balinor protested in a weak manner.

“Shut up, Bay. It’s our party. And you’re my best mate, so shut up and get in the fucking car already.” He took the keys from Balinor’s hand and headed to where the cars were being parked. It was easy to spot the silver sedan, next to all those fancy vehicles the old thing stood out like a sore thumb. With Balinor’s skills in chemistry and Uther’s in finances they had started a small business brewing homemade beer in the kitchen of the small flat they shared back when they were all at uni. Nowadays they were doing great; they rented a place and were starting to produce in a larger scale. But Balinor insisted on keeping his father’s car, even though he could easily pay for something newer and better.

“Thanks for doing this.” Hunith said when they got to the car.

“I meant what I said. You’re my best friends, there’s no need for thanks, I’m sure you’d do the same for me if it was Arthur.” He offered her a reassuring smile and got into the car where Balinor was already sitting in the back. Uther waited for Hunith to get in the passenger seat and then started the car. Igraine was waiting for them beside the gates and Uther stopped next to her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Drive safely.” She turned to Hunith. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Hunith nodded.

“Bye, love,” Uther said and then drove off.

 

* * *

 

They were in the middle of the way when the snow started to fall.

“Be careful, Uther,” Hunith said when the car skidded a little after a curve.

“Yeah! Don’t wanna cause an accident,” Balinor hiccupped from the back sit.

“You know, this is a good opportunity to remind you once again why you should get rid of this piece of garbage, Bay. These tires are really not fit for the snow.” From the rearview mirror Uther saw Balinor snort.  Uther rolled his eyes to his friend, even though Bay couldn’t see him. “And I know you want to get to Merlin as soon as possible,” he said it to Hunith. “But I’ll just have to go slow here, to keep everyone safe.”

He gently put his feet on the brake pedal, not to have the car spinning with the sudden loss of speed, but the thing went all the way down, and the car’s speed kept the same. He must have made a face because Hunith asked, “Something wrong?”

“I don’t know, I – the brakes.” And he tried again with the same result. “Damn, Bay, I told you to – –”

“Oh, fuck it!” Balinor came closer to him and at this distance Uther could smell the alcohol in his friend’s breath. “Just stop it, and I’ll drive. You don’t know how to take care of my babe.” And with that he reached for the steering wheel.

“Balinor!” Hunith cried.

Uther tried to push Balinor away, but he had already grabbed the steering wheel. The car zigzagged.

“Balinor, stop it!” Hunith said, trying to push her husband back. “Stop it – OH MY GOD!”

It all happened really fast, Uther had been looking at the steering wheel, trying to get control of the car , so when he looked up at the road all he saw as a blur, coming fast in their direction. Only it was the other way around, _they_ were going in its direction.

They were going to hit a tree.

That was when he felt a hand pushing him away. He didn’t understand what was going on until Balinor, now practically laid on his lap, reached for the door handle and opened it.

Uther fell on the cold ground with a thud, his head was spinning. He felt a dull pain in his left leg and something hot coming from behind his left ear. But all of that was seconded, for when he finally looked up all he saw was smoke, there were a few seconds of silence and then a very loud, very close explosion. In the microseconds of clarity, all the smoke was gone and he could see, though he wished he hadn’t. The front of Bay’s car was smashed in the tree trunk, and Bay – half of him was still inside the car, as for the other half – Uther didn’t see it because thankfully that was when he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Smoke. There was a lot of smoke, he couldn’t see anything. He tried to call the people in the car but when he opened his mouth the smoke came in and he started to cough. He coughed and coughed, bending over himself and trying to breathe. He looked up; he could see the flames now, licking the front of the car. He could feel the tears pricking on his eyes; he tried to call his parents again.

“MOM!” Merlin woke up screaming, his body sweating, automatically jerking into a sitting position. He was panting.

“ _Cariad_?”  It took a moment for Merlin to realise where he was and who was talking to him. He looked down on the bed to see Mordred pushing the blankets back and sitting next to him. “Breathe.” Merlin took a deep, shaky breath as Mordred rubbed gentle circles on his back. “It was just a bad dream.”

“I haven’t had this dream in years.” There were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t try to stop them as they ran down his face.

“Why now?” Mordred asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I came back to England. Maybe it’s because it’s our first night in this flat. My first night in this city in– fuck” Merlin rubbed his eyes; had it really been that long? He was 30 now, and he had left Camelot when he was 12 so…  “In 18 years.”

“Maybe you should talk to your psychiatrist,” Mordred suggested in quiet tone.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Merlin smiled sadly at his fiancé. “I’ll call doctor Kilgharrah in the morning.”

Mordred reached up a hand and brush off a tear from Merlin’s cheek, and then he gave Merlin a chaste kiss. “This is a new beginning, uh, for both of us,” he said, eyes locked on Merlin’s. Mordred pulled both of them down and under the duvet, putting his arms around Merlin.

Merlin nested himself in Mordred’s chest; he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down by listening to Mordred’s heartbeats. But as comfortable and safe as he felt in his lover’s arms, Merlin still couldn’t go back to sleep, the images from his dream haunting him.

He wasn’t there when the car crashed; he never saw his father’s mutilated body or his mother’s cracked skull. He didn’t see Uther laying few meters away with a broken leg and a concussion. And yet he knew, he knew all of that because his aunt Vivian told him. He had spent a lot of time thinking he was the cause of his parents’ death because they were going to see him when it happened, but then she told him who was driving that day. Uther Pendragon had killed his parents and taken their business for himself.

This was Merlin’s new beginning alright. And he was going to start by taking back what was his, and hopefully destroying Uther Pendragon in the process.

 

In the morning Merlin was whacked, he didn’t get much sleep after the nightmare and stayed awake all night, trying to stay as still as he could not to wake Mordred. When his mobile alarm rang it was almost a blessing. Almost.

He went to the bathroom to try to make himself presentable for the meeting he had with the _Pendragon_ board, they were not expecting him, which was more reason for Merlin to try to look like a human being rather than a zombie. He was going to claim the place that would have been his father’s if he were alive. Merlin’s aunt, Vivian, was responsible for his part in the business Balinor and Uther had built until Merlin came of age. But she brought Merlin up as if he were one of her children, and she never touched his money or attended board meetings unless it was extremely necessary.

So there he was, looking at his reflection on the mirror and wishing he could magic out the dark circles under his eyes. After a few minutes he realised that owning a Harry Potter wand didn’t actually make him magic so he gave up with a sigh.  Merlin went back to the bedroom and found Mordred already dressed and with a smile on his face.

“Morning! I’d kiss you but I haven’t brushed my teeth yet. Guess we passed the point where that is acceptable because we want to snog each other’s brains out,” Mordred said as he passed Merlin in his way to bathroom. He was way too cheerful for a Monday morning, Merlin thought, and he said so.

“Oh, fome on! If youf bif day.” Mordred shouted from the bathroom. He came out of it still brushing his teeth, his mouth full of foam. “Anf I’ll fe fere for you.”

“Thank you. And for the record,” Merlin said, going after Mordred when he went back to the bathroom, “I still want to snog your brains out,” he said slapping Mordred’s arse.

And it wasn’t just as Merlin’s soon-to-be husband that Mordred was there for him, even though he wasn’t Merlin’s lawyer he could still offer some legal advice, and besides as much as he had studied about it, Merlin understood very little about how the whole bureaucracy thing worked in cases like his. All that he knew for certain was that he had a place on the board of _Pendragon_ and he was going to take it. Mordred had his own new job to go though, so he wouldn’t be joining Merlin today.

When they came out of the bathroom Merlin was beginning to feel confident again. He put on his leather bracelet above the faint white line on his left wrist. The bracelet was a gift from Aunt Vivian and Merlin had been wearing it every day since she gave it to him, when he was sixteen. He had made a few adjustments over the years as he grew up, but mostly it never left him. 

“Read or blue,” he asked Mordred, holding two ties in front of him.

“Blue,” Mordred answered, and then he gave Merlin a cheeky grin. “It goes with your eyes.”

“Red it is, then!” Merlin said, but not without smiling back to reassure he was just playing along. Truth was he didn’t want to look appealing, he wanted to look dangerous.

* * *

 

Arthur loved running, and he was good at it. He could have gone pro, but his father had other plans for him. And so did his right knee. It was still good enough that he could run around his block, which he did every morning. Usually he went alone but today his cousin Gawain came along. Not by choice, though.

“I’ll never, ever, make a bet with you again,” Gawain panted, when he finally caught up with Arthur. He wasn’t in a bad shape, far from it, but he was not used to doing this every day and he had five years on Arthur. Gawain had every excuse not to match Arthur’s tempo.

Still, it was fun to tease.

“You’re getting old,” he said with a smirk.

“I will not... be insulted by a lunatic… a lunatic who goes around running after a night of clubbing.” 

Arthur just grinned and kept running for another ten minutes until he got to the front of his house again. When he stopped he looked back but Gawain was right behind him, he dropped to the ground as soon as he reached Arthur.

“Never… again,” Gawain panted, stretching his arms as he lay on his back next to Arthur.

“Come on!” Arthur offered a hand for him to stand. “Take a bath and you’ll be as good as new.”

When they were both ready to go, Arthur for the office and Gawain to his art gallery, they stopped by a coffee shop and Arthur bought breakfast for the both of them. Gawain was Arthur’s favourite cousin and also his best friend. He took Arthur under his wing ever since they were little, even though he had three younger brothers. Arthur was an only child but thanks to Gawain he never felt alone.

“What do we have here?” Gawain asked, turning his coffee around. There was something written below his name. It was o phone number followed by the name Cassie. “Why, look at that!”

“Someone made an impression.”

“Yeah,” Gawain said with little to no enthusiasm.

“You don’t seem very interested.” Arthur quirked his head to the side intrigued.

“Yeah, I, I have other plans,” Gawain answered vaguely.

“You mean Morgana LeFay,” Arthur said, making a face.

He'd always thought the woman was a bit scary. She was the daughter of Vivian LeFay, the owner of the most expansive perfume brand in the UK, _Avalon_. Arthur knew Vivian because her brother was the friend with whom Uther had started his business. Both siblings had a way of dealing with liquids and substances like it was magic. Balinor had invented the formula for _King’s Ale_ , the beer _Pendragon_ produced, and Vivian was behind the making of every single fragrance in her brand.

Arthur’s father told him once the story of the Emrys siblings, they had come from nothing and Vivian made a fortune and so would Balinor, if he were alive. But she always fascinated Arthur the most, because while Balinor was good with chemistry he had Uther to manage the business. Vivian did almost everything on her own, rumor had it people didn’t even know her name when she started, she used to introduce herself as the lady of _The Lake_ , because that was what people remembered the most, her perfume; which up to this day was still the company’s flagship. Nowadays it was difficult for Arthur to imagine someone who hadn’t heard of her.

Vivian LeFay was Arthur’s secret super-hero.

Her daughter on the other hand…

“That woman makes me think about black widows.” He shrugged inwardly.  

“Oh, come on! She’s amazing! She’s the most beautiful and amazing – –”

“You’re madly in love with her; I got that about five years ago.” Arthur cut off Gawain’s babbling. “What I don’t understand is why you haven’t made a move yet.”

“It’s not like that. I can’t just – –” Gawain made an exasperate sound. “Didn’t you hear me? She’s ama – –”.

“Amazing, and beautiful and whatever. So?”

“So, she’s out of my league.”

“That’s – I’m not even going to comment that. No.” Arthur shook his head. Gawain was one of the most handsome men Arthur knew, he wasn’t very tall but he was well built, he had the most ridiculously perfect hair, which went until his shoulders and enough scruff on his face to make him sexy. And okay, maybe it wasn’t very polite to think of one’s cousin as sexy, but as long as he didn’t say it aloud, no harm done, right? It was not like Arthur was in love with his cousin, which would be very weird since they grew up almost as brothers, Arthur had eyes though, and even though Morgana was a beautiful woman, there was no way Gawain was out of her league. “You’re being an idiot.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Can’t help it though, what am I supposed to do?” Gawain shrugged, he had the kicked puppy face.

“Ask her out would be a good start,” Arthur said matter-of-factly. He always thought that being straightforward was the best course of action. 

“What if she says no?”

“Then you man up and move on,” Arthur answered, walking out of the coffee shop, with Gawain putting on his scarf right behind Arthur. Arthur checked his watch, he wasn’t late but he would be if he didn’t hurry up. “Look, I got to go. We talk later, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, see you later, mate” Gawain said while he walked for the opposite way from where Arthur was going. Arthur couldn’t help noticing how bad the Morgana thing was, he only hoped his cousin wouldn’t get hurt. He shook his head, Gawain was a grown man, he could take care of himself, and Arthur had his own life to take care of.

 

When he got to the office, on time as always, there was an unusual commotion on the floor where most of the board meetings were held. He stopped at the reception desk and asked Elena, the blond, friendly receptionist of that floor what was going on.

“Good Morning, Arthur.” Arthur was on first name basis with almost everyone on the company, which was something he was really proud of; he didn’t want to be one of those bosses who forgot that without his employees he wouldn’t be anywhere. “Well, we have an important visitor.” She smiled and then leaned forward on her desk and whispered. Arthur had to lean forward as well to be able to hear her. “I don’t know who he is, but he’s with Vivian LeFay.”

“Vivian? Are you sure?” He looked from her to the closed doors of the conference room. Vivian only went to the meetings when it was extremely necessary, she usually sent a lawyer. When Balinor died she became responsible for his son’s share of the business, even after he grew up. It appeared to Arthur that he never took interest on the family business. Arthur didn’t have any memory of the bloke, but if he were to put his money on it, he would bet the man was some kind of artsy type, hipster wannabe like Morgana (though, last he heard she’d been working for her mother now), since, for all Arthur knew, they had grown up together. And that was something Arthur knew about this kind of people, they were always after someone to sponsor their crazy events. “Oh, I see. Some bloke with Vivian, you say. Tell me, does he look about my age?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Do you know who he is?”

“I might. Not sure,” Arthur answered, already going for the door.

* * *

 

“… he holds almost half of the shares of this company.” Aunt Viv was saying for the tenth time – Merlin wasn’t even counting anymore – when the doors were opened and a Greek god with golden hair and red tie came in. “Arthur! Merlin this is – –”

“Mrs. LeFay wants to put this man – –”

Vivian and the man who had introduced himself as Lot spoke at the same time.

“Mrs. LeFay, uncle, please. Let me at least take a sit first.” He sat at the right side of the oval shaped table, the chair by his left side was empty, the man who was supposed to sit there wasn’t at the office today. Merlin felt both disappointment and relief; perhaps he wasn’t as ready as he thought to face Uther. After Arthur sat he completely ignored Lot and turned to Aunt Viv. “Mrs. LeFay, I understand this must be your nephew.”

“How very perceptive of you, Arthur. And you just came in!” She looked at Lot. “I have been trying to introduce Merlin for the past thirty minutes, but it would appear that the brain _is_ only at the head of the company.”

Arthur sighed. “Well, uh. Nice to meet you, Merlin,” he cleared his throat.

Somewhere in the past Merlin’s skinny, awkward 15 year old self was probably supporting a boner for being acknowledge by the gorgeous man in front of him. But 30 year old Merlin had more self-control than that. Especially after he’d done the math and realised who Arthur was. “Pendragon.”

The man smiled. “Please, don’t say that. You make me feel as old as my father. Arthur’s fine.”

Merlin had a hard time not returning the smile. Thankfully he was saved from any embarrassment by his aunt.

“Well, _Arthur._ As you are aware, part of this company belongs to my nephew.”

Arthur turned his chair to face Vivian. He had some sort of glint in his eyes, Merlin noticed, every time he addressed aunt Viv. Merlin could see he at least held some respect towards her, but now there was something else in Pendragon’s posture.

“I am aware of that, ma’am. What I don’t know is, what your nephew wants me to do about it.  Does he want to sell it? Does he want money?” There was a kind of annoyance in his tone, the kind you have when dealing with a child that keeps asking if ‘we’re getting there?’  Though he was talking to Vivian, Merlin knew he was the one that attitude was directed to. And he was _not_ just going to sit there and take shit from that man.

“I don’t want _you_ to do anything. Perhaps this is a shocking change for you, but this has _nothing_ to do with you, Pendragon. I am here to take the place that belongs to me.” Merlin turned his chair as he spoke, so that he could face each and every one of the board members. “For years I have been represented by Vivian’s lawyer, but Mr. Saymor has recently passed away, and so I thought, ‘why not?’. My lawyer has told me everything I need to know about this company. I didn’t come here today to ask your permission, I’m here to present myself.” He got up from the chair. “My name is Merlin Emrys, my father was Balinor Emrys. Half of this company once belonged to him. I understand that this is not the case anymore, but I still hold a significant share of this company. And I’m going to take care of what is mine.” The last sentence was directed to Arthur.

Arthur simply raised an eyebrow to him. Merlin felt like punching his face. Instead he took a deep breath; he gave his message, now he just needed to let it sink in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, have a good day.” And with that he left the room.

 

The elevators doors were about to close when a hand stopped them, and attached to the hand, of course, was Arthur Pendragon.

“I see you have a thing for the dramatic. You’re an actor or something?” He said as he walked in and the doors closed behind him.

Merlin crossed his arms making annoyance well known. “What do you want Pendragon?”

“I want to understand why the sudden interest.” Arthur squinted at him, seizing Merlin’s figure from head to toe. “Is it a money thing?”

“I think you’re the one worried about money here. You can’t shut up about it. Is that it, Arthur? You’re worried I’m going to take everything from you? Well, let me tell you something. You don’t need to worry about that, and you know why? Because I’m not your father! I don’t take things from people to give it to my own.” He uncrossed his arms and took a step forward. “I told you I did my research. I know he put almost your entire family here. So, I am sorry to break it to you, but this is no longer your family business. It never was. Your father changing the name of the company doesn’t make it any less mine.”

“Jesus! What is with you and the big speeches?” Arthur asked, throwing his hand up the air in a frustrated gesture.

The elevator doors opened behind Arthur and suddenly Merlin felt too tired to continue that discussion.

“I already said everything I had to say. Now, if you could get out of my way,” Merlin said bypassing Arthur.

Arthur barked a humorless laugh causing Merlin to look back at him. “There’s something about you, Merlin.” He shook his head as he stepped out of the lift and walked towards Merlin. “Can’t quite put my finger on it.”

There was almost no space between them when Merlin said, “Yeah? Well, you’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on, so maybe you’ll figure it out.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I met Arthur today?” Was the first thing Merlin said when Mordred picked the phone.

_“Why, hi Merlin! How is your day going? Good! Mine is alright, too. Who’s Arthur?”_

“Uther’s son.” He held the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he searched his pockets for his keys to enter his flat.

 _“Yeah, and what’s he like?”_ Mordred asked, he didn’t sound too excited about it but Merlin supposed he was only asking out of the goodness of his heart, rather than because he had a real interest. Merlin didn’t blame him. Mordred had been with him through all of Merlin’s problems for the past five years, he didn’t have to obsess over every detail like Merlin did.

“Prattish,” he said, rolling his eyes at the memory, “Thinks he’s better than anyone.”

Mordred scoffed, Merlin could almost see him shaking his head. He found the keys and opened the door.

“What?”

“ _Nothing, is just,”_ he hesitated. _“Of course you’d say something like that.”_

“You think I’m just saying this because of his family, but you haven’t met him, the man really is an arse.”

_“Or, you’re just projecting. He’s a Pendragon, why should he be spared from this blind hate you have towards all these people you haven’t seen since you were a toddler?”_

And that was it. Merlin had managed to keep it together the whole morning but that was the last drop.

“Fuck you, Mordred.” He was about to hang up, the phone already off his ear, when he heard Mordred shouting. He put the mobile back on his ear.

_“Wait, wait. I don’t wanna fight.”_

“Really? You don’t? Cause it’s not what it looks – –”

_“Wait, sorry. Okay? I’m sorry. It’s just. Sometimes this all seems so pointless.”_

“Pointless?” He ran his free hand through his hair, frustration and anger boiling on his stomach. “My family died!” He finally shouted.  

 _“It was an accident,”_ Mordred replied in a placid tone.

“No. No.” Merlin shook his head, even though Mordred couldn’t see him. “Uther Pendragon killed my parents. He wanted that company all to himself and his family.”He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself before he started another fight. “Sorry for snapping on you, love. You know this is important to me.”

Mordred sighed over the line. _“I know, I’m sorry for provoking. But please, don’t just jump to conclusions, M.”_

Merlin closed his eyes, resting his head on the closed door. “Yeah,” he sighed. His thoughts went to Arthur again for some reason. “I’ll try to do that.”

* * *

 

“This. Is. Not. Happening,” Morgause said, closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself and keep the headache she could feel forming behind her eyes at bay.

“Well, it was bound to happen one day.” She opened her eyes to see Lot doing a weird shrug with his left arm around his chest supporting the other one up as he bit on the nails of his right hand.

Morgause squinted at him in disbelieve. “You cannot be this thick.” At his confused look she continued in a hiss. “Have you forgotten, _dear husband_ , the lengths I went through to get this company to our family?”

Lot could be an idiot but he was a loyal one, and his complete devotion to her was part of the reason Morgause had married him. He knew everything she had done and he never once judged her for it.

He sat on the armchair in front of her desk and took one of her hands in his. “I know, and I thank and respect you for it.” In spite of herself the sincerity of his words brought a small, but real smile to Morgause’s lips. “And I don’t believe this Emrys kid is really a threat.”

Her smiled dropped.

“What is the name of this company, Lot?” She asked as she let go of his hands and got up.

“ _Pendragon,_ ” he answered confused with the sudden change in the conversation.

“Exactly,” she said as she took her blazer jacket from the back of the chair “We,” she paused to put it on, “are not Pendragons. You know what we are, Lot?”

He shook his head in confusion as she spoke, and then answered, “Orkneys – –”

“We are _lucky_ , husband. At least we have been, so far, lucky that my sister and Uther had only one son, and lucky that this son is not getting anyone pregnant any time soon.” Morgause placed both of her hands on her desk and leaned forward until her face was inches from Lot’s. “Our sons are heirs of this empire and there is very little standing between them and this company.”

Lot nodded.

“Now, Merlin Emrys is a stone in their way. He is jinxing us.” She took her hands off the desk and adjusted her jacket. Lot got up as well, noticing she was about to leave he took her purse – a gentleman as always, her dear fool – she took it as he offered it to her. “We have to get rid of him.”

* * *

 

Doctor Kilgharrah was in his clinc in Camelot when Merlin called to make an appointment; he had some free time in his afternoon so Merlin went to see him that same day. He was everything but pleased with Merlin’s actions. He had been Merlin’s psychiatrist since Merlin was sixteen, and he could read him like an open book.

“I know what you are trying to do,” he said, pushing his glasses up with a finger. “Revenge is not the answer, young man.”

Merlin snorted. “You know, I thought shrinks were supposed to just sit back and listen until they got fed up and blame it all on Oedipus’ complex.”

Kilgharrah arched and eyebrow, looking at him unimpressed. “Do you want to talk about your feelings towards your mother, Merlin? Are they inappropriate?”

Merlin sometimes wondered if Kilgharrah treated all his patients like he treated Merlin, or if he only behaved like that because of their proximity. He wouldn’t have been able to keep his license by saying shite like that on a first visit. And Kilgharrah had had a license for a _long_ time; he'd probably had a license since it was invented.

“I didn’t have time to develop inappropriate feeling for mom,” he leaned forward on the psychiatrist’s chair, getting on a sitting position, “because Uther Pendragon _killed_ her before I had a chance to even learn how to spell her maiden name.”

Doctor Kilgharrah shook his head, giving Merlin a disappointed look. “Merlin.”

“Don’t Merlin me, Kilgharrah,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Merlin was aware that it was considered as a defensive posture, but he didn’t care. “I’ve already got Mordred fighting with me because of this, not you too.” He sighed. “I just need you to help me with the nightmares,” he pleaded.

“But it is all connected, Merlin. I cannot help you if you don’t help yourself.” Merlin was about to protest, he hated when the old man entered in that cryptic, and totally unhelpful mode, but Kilgharrah raised a hand to stop him. “When I said it would do you good getting in touch with your father’s work was so that you could get to know him better, to feel closer to him. What you are doing is destructive.” He pointed at Merlin with a bony finger. “And the first person to go down, young man, will be you.”

 

When Merlin got home he was greeted by the smell of food, which proceeded to his stomach making it known that he hadn’t eaten all day. Merlin ignored the noises coming from his belly in order to acknowledge the second thing that took his notice when he opened the door.

“You’re cooking,” he called from the living room. “Or are we finally being victims of nice burglary?” Merlin joked as he put his satchel on the sofa and turned to look at Mordred in the kitchen.

There was only a counter separating the kitchen from the main room, which they had divided into living room (sofa and telly) and diner room ( the corner where the dining table was).

Mordred laughed good-naturedly. God and Merlin knew he could do plenty of things very well, but cooking was not one of them, and they had already been victim of two not-at-all nice burglaries back in their first apartment in Wales, Mordred’s homeland.

“Mock all you want,” Mordred said. “This is apology dinner,” he explained showing Merlin the plastic bag from a Thai food restaurant, “takeaway in fancy plates; best that I can do.”

“Want help?” Merlin asked coming around the counter.

“Oh no, no,” Mordred said grabbing a plate before Merlin could reach it. “It’s all taken care of, you just sit there and look pretty.”

“Easy, then,” Merlin laughed as he followed Mordred to the table.

They ate in companionable silence.

“What’s for desert?”

“Uh… Make up sex?” Mordred answered; it was more a question than a statement. He laughed, scratching the back of his head. “My plans didn’t go that far I’m afraid.”

“’S fine,” Merlin said with an affectionate smile. It was amazing how a full stomach could change his humor. He took one of Mordred’s hands. “I quite like the second option, anyway.”

Mordred looked at him through his long dark lashes, offering Merlin a timid smile. Merlin usually considered Mordred as an old soul, but it was times like this that his youth really showed. Mordred was four years younger than Merlin.

“We’re okay?” he asked Merlin.

Merlin nodded. “I went to see Kilgharrah.” He entwined their fingers, turning their hands so that he could place a kiss on Mordred’s. “He’s on your team, thinks I’ll get hurt.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid, Merlin.”

Merlin sighed, “Like I said, you’re on the same team,” he said, kissing Mordred’s hand again. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah? What do you want then?” Mordred asked, getting up and puling Merlin with him. He circled the table until they were face to face. “Maybe I could help,” he whispered in Merlin’s lips.

Merlin closed the distance, sealing their lips together as a form of answer. They kissed slowly as if they had all the time in the world. In that moment, Merlin thought, they really did.

Merlin didn’t remember walking to their bedroom but when he opened his eyes again there they were. Mordred pulled at the hem of his T-shirt until Merlin got the message and put his arms up so that he could take it off. He did the same to Mordred and they lay in the bed, Mordred on top of him.

For a moment they just stood there, looking at each other. Mordred brought a hand up to take Merlin’s hair off his eyes; he then traced his cheekbone with his thumb, stopping at the Merlin’s bottom lip.

“I love you,” Mordred said.

Merlin smiled fondly at him, bringing Mordred’s head down to give him a kiss long and deep enough to convey his answer.

* * *

 

At least once a month Morgause required that her sons came home for a family dinner. She hated to admit but ever since her boys had grown up and moved out she felt that the house was too big just for her, Lot and Agravaine, the only one of the boys that had stayed with them. Though Agravaine was far from boyhood at 30, he didn’t express any desire of leaving her any time soon; which served Morgause just fine, since even her youngest, Gareth, at 23 was already off to his own doings.

They had grown up too soon, her four boys. That didn’t mean she would stop taking care of them. Everything she had done in the past thirty three years had been with their best interests at heart. 

She was so lost in thoughts that she didn’t notice someone approaching her until a par of hand took the collar she was putting on from her hands.

“Allow me,” Agravaine said closing the clasp of the necklace. She looked up at the mirror and saw his reflection smiling at her. “You look beautiful, mother.”

“Thank you, darling.” She turned to him.  “Have your brother’s arrived?”

“Gawain and Gareth, yes, Gaheris called, his flight was delayed, he’s still in France.”

Morgause scoffed. “His wife didn’t want him to come, it’s more likely.” Her only married son and his little bitch of a wife tried to… to control him, as Morgause herself did with Lot, which only made them hate each other all the more.

When she got downstairs Morgause found Lot and Gareth laughing at some story Gawain was telling him. Typical. Her first-born had always been the funny one and the more handsome too, to be quite honest. But despite all that Morgause had never managed to really connect with her eldest.

It was true that none of the boys matched Agravaine in matters of loyalty and devotion to her, but Gaheris and especially Gareth, she could… persuade. Quite like Lot, they had a sort of fearful respect for her, which she could work with, in whichever way pleased her.

Morgause never had this kind of power over Gawain. She hated to admit but it made it more difficult for her to deal with him. Nonetheless, he was one of her boys and she loved him all the same.

“My boys,” she greeted, announcing her entrance.

“Mother,” Gawain said, raising his wine glass in her direction.

“Mom!” Gareth exclaimed as he hugged her. Being a law student in Scotland meant that he spent a lot of time without coming home. He had missed the last two family dinners.

“Sweetheart, oh, how I have missed you,” Morgause said as she hugged him back. “Come now,” she continue, broking apart, she gave a step back to properly look at him. “You look so skinny; let’s fatten you up a bit.”

The conversation at the table consisted mostly of catching up with the boys. Gareth being the one with more to say, since Agravaine lived and worked with Morgause and Lot and Gawain’s art wasn’t a topic the rest of the family understood (or cared, in her case) that much. Though, when Gareth finished one of his stories, Morgause remembered  something Gawain could share with them.

“Did Arthur tell you anything about  Emrys?” she asked turning to him.

Gawain shook his head. “I’ve only saw him in the morning. What about Balinor?”

“Not him,” Lot replied, “his son.”

“He had a son?” Gareth’s question wasn’t much of a surprise, he hadn’t even been born when the Emrys’ died and Morgause had done everything within her power to erase that family from their lives. She even managed to make Uther change the legal name of the company from _Emrys & Pendragon _to just _Pendragon_ , and that had been when Gareth was but a toddler.

“Yeah, Melvin or something,” Gawain said.

“Marcus,” Agravaine tried.

“ _Merlin_ ,” she stated, tired of the guessing game, “his name is Merlin.” She took a sip of her wine before proceeding. “He showed up today, demanding a place on the board. It’s a wonder Arthur didn’t run to tell you. Isn’t that what he usually does? Here I thought you were best friends.”

Gawain cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. In front of him, Agravaine snickered.

“We’re not fishwives, mother. Or maybe you’re mistaking me with another one of your sons. You know,” he said looking directly at Agravaine, “the one who has to tell you when he’s finished in the loo.”

“Hey!” Agravaine exclaimed, looking from Gawain to her and then back again, as if expecting Morgause to come to his aid. She sighed.

“There’s no need for this. I just made you a simple question.”

“Yeah, well. The answer’s no. Arthur has not said a word about this Merlin. And why should he, anyway?”

“Well, it’s strange, isn’t it? That he shows up now, out of nowhere.”

“He must have his reasons,” Gareth supplied.

“My bet is that he just wants money,” Lot said.

“Yes,” Morgause agreed, “is what I thought as well. But then why does he want to be part of the board?”

“Because he’s entitled to it,” Gawain said. “Isn’t he, _mother_? And why does this matter, anyway?” he added.

Morgause raised an eyebrow at him. “Very, well, if is all the same to you then, all pass through you gallery tomorrow. Take a few paintings, change their place.”

“You can’t do that,” Gawain protested, he looked more and more outraged as she spoke.

“Well, is my money in there, isn’t it? Or have you paid back my investments?” She turned to her husband. “Has he paid you, Lot?”

“I – –” Lot stuttered

“Do you want me to start paying – –” Gawain said at the same time, but she cut them both.

“My point is,” she started. Gawain made a motion to leave the table and Morgause raised a hand for him to keep sitting. “My point is,” she repeated once he sat back, “just because you have your money on something, it doesn’t mean it’s _yours_. Emrys wants money? Fine, I’ll write him a check. But if he thinks he can just start messing with our business, he’s got another thing coming.”

They were all quite for a moment, her three sons and her husband just stood there, looking like fools. It was not possible that none of them saw what she saw. That Emrys was dangerous for business; if he was anything like his father he wouldn’t know the first thing about it. He could ruin them.

The silence stretched for a while longer until Gawain, still red-faced with anger, finally got up from his chair at the table.

“You’re forgetting something, Morgause.” He always did that when he was angry at her, call her by name. “It’s not _our_ business.” He dropped his napkin on his pate. “You are not a Pendragon.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re back!” Merlin recognized the voice instantly. He turned from the reception desk where he had been about to ask the receptionist what floor he was supposed to be. Aunt Viv had told him that, officially, he was supposed to have an office, but since he had been mostly represented by a lawyer, Merlin wasn’t holding his breath.

“I told you,” he answered. “You’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on.”

Arthur shrugged. “Fine by me,” he said with a smile.

Arthur seemed friendly enough. Merlin thought back to his conversations with Mordred and doctor Kilgharrah. It wouldn’t hurt to be polite. Even to a Pendragon; Arthur wasn’t the one with whom Merlin had a grudge anyway.

“You seem lost,” Arthur pointed.

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed, “maybe you could help me.”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Where’s my office?”

“What?” Arthur snorted. “I, uh –” He put his hands into his trousers pockets and made a show of looking around. “I wasn’t aware you had one.”

Merlin rolled his eyes at him. “You’re a prat.”

Arthur just smirked at him.

Merlin huffed. “Never mind,” he declared as he bypassed Arthur. “I’ll find it myself.”

“No, wait.” Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and Merlin stopped but he didn’t turn around. “I’m serious, I’m not sure you have an office. Can you –” he made and impatient noise. “Can you turn around, _please_?”

Merlin obliged, but he crossed his arms for good measure, to show he was not pleased with Arthur’s attitude.

“Your aunt and lawyer never requested an office,” Arthur continued. “I honestly don’t believe you have one.”

The honesty in his tone subdued Merlin’s annoyance; it also completely killed his mood. His shoulders dropped as Merlin realised how so very alone he was in that big gray building. He casted his eyes down to the leather band on his left wrist; he rubbed at it with his other hand.

Merlin felt quite tired all of the sudden.

His face must have betrayed some of his emotion because the next time Merlin looked at him Arthur’s features had softened. He cleared his throat.

“I do believe we have empty rooms, though,” Arthur offered.

It was the most sympathetic he had been so far and it took Merlin off guard. He didn’t understand Arthur, he was an arse – there was no doubt about it – but a likeable one.

“So…” Arthur called, and Merlin realised he had been silent for far too long.

“Er,” he faltered, “yeah, I mean – –” Merlin shook his head, chuckling softly to try to get rid of his embarrassment. “Lead the way.”

Arthur laughed as well, he looked down at Merlin’s hands, and Merlin noticed he was holding his left wrist; he let go quickly and put his hands into his pockets.

“You are a very weird person, Merlin.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he smiled, feeling his mood lift up a bit.

 

Arthur ended up giving Merlin a tour. As it turned out, _Pendragon_ didn’t own the entire building, but instead they occupied two stories of it.

“We might need a third one in two or three years, if things go as I planned,” Arthur explained.

They had stopped at Elena’s desk, Arthur asked her about the vacant rooms and she said she was going to look into it and get back to them as soon as possible; so they went to wait in Arthur’s office. It was a big room with a black leather sofa and a mini bar in one end and an indoor toilet in the other. The wall behind Arthur’s desk was a floor to ceiling window; it offered a fantastic view of the city.

“You’re the one calling all the shots then?” Merlin asked taking a sip of the coffee a secretary had just brought to them.

Arthur shook his head and put his coffee down next to his hip; he was leaning against the desk in front of Merlin. “No, that would be Uther. I’m COO, director of operations.”

Merlin just nodded, refraining from comment, though he felt a clench on the stomach when he heard the name. For a moment all he wanted was to tell Arthur what a monster his father was.

“And the other Pendragons?” he asked instead.

“There are no others, I mean, there was my mother but she was a high school literature teacher. She never worked here, though my aunt, her sister and uncle, and one of my cousins work here.”

That surprised Merlin, there were far less people from Uther’s family working there than Merlin had thought.

“And she doesn’t teach anymore?” he asked, curious about the only family member who didn’t want to take a place in the business.

“She passed,” Arthur answered without looking at him.

“Oh, uh – I’m so sorry.” Merlin could kick himself right now. He should have done more research on these people. His aunt was his only source of information about them and she avoided talking about it ever since Merlin’s incident when he was a teen. Hence his disconcerting lack of knowledge.

“It’s fine,” Arthur dismissed his concern. “It’s not recent, it’s been ten years.”

It might as well have been twenty or thirty, Merlin knew better than anyone how much it hurt to lose someone they love, even if he had been a child when it happened. The years didn’t make it any easier, you just get used to the pain.

“I know how it feels,” he told Arthur, who was looking at him with an open expression, it made Merlin feel like he could trust him with something personal. They had this in common after all. “It’s not fine.”

Arthur’s eyebrows went up his hair line like he had just realised something. “Oh, that’s right. You lost your parents too. I’m sorry, I didn’t remember.”

Merlin sighed. “It changes you,” he nodded. “Aunt Vivian was great, she _is_ , but –”

“She’s not your mother,” Arthur concluded to him.

“She loves me like one, though. Always did,” Merlin smiled sadly, he felt like he should make that clear. Vivian had always treated him just as she treated Lancelot and Morgana.

“Okay,” Arthur said lightly slapping his thighs. “Enough with the reminiscing; what else do you want to see?”

 Merlin had the answer to that on the tip of his tongue. “The brewery,” he beamed. “I want to see my father’s work.”

* * *

 

Throughout the brief period of time they had known each other, Merlin had seemed like a sad person, even when he smiled it never quite reached his eyes. He looked like someone who had been caring a heavy load on his shoulders for a long time. It didn’t affect his looks though. Merlin had such an ethereal beauty, he was tall – taller than Arthur – and skinny but well built. There were muscles under that suit. Arthur just knew it. The messy black hair, deep blue eyes and high cheekbones completed his fairy-like complexion.

Merlin had only seemed to be really happy when Arthur took him to the brewery and an employee showed them around. His eyes lit up when he saw the machines doing their work with the beer. Arthur made sure to tell him that even though the process had improved over the years, the formula had remained the same. Balinor’s recipe.

There had been a moment or two in which Arthur was sure Merlin was about to start crying.

“It’s wonderful,” Merlin declared with a boyish grin. He then entered in an exited conversation about the chemical process with the employee who had given them the tour. He hadn’t been half as animated when Arthur was explaining the bureaucratic part of the business to him.

“This is your playground, isn’t it?” Arthur asked once they had finished their tour. “The production part,” he added.

“I’m a Chemical Engineer,” Merlin replied grinning. “I’m all about mixing liquids to see what happens,” he joked. “I have been working with cosmetics, mostly perfumes. You know, _Avalon_.”

“Why do you want to deal with the board then?” Arthur inquired, intrigued. “Wouldn’t you prefer to work here?”

Merlin shook his head. “Is not where the decisions are made.” They were in the car park, he pointed to the building behind them. “The work here is mostly mechanical. I wouldn’t be of much use. I want to be where my opinion will be heard.”

“Even if you have no idea what we do there?” Though Arthur was teasing he also couldn’t understand Merlin’s point of view.

Merlin scoffed. “Don’t worry that big head of yours about what I do or don’t know, Arthur.”

“Excuse you!” Arthur replied offended, bringing his hands to his hips. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“Well, you have been. Thank you very much,” Merlin retorted, although his thank you sounded more like a _fuck you_ if Arthur had ever heard one.

And with that Merlin turned his back to Arthur; heading back to the building.

“Where are you going?” Arthur called.

“To call a cab,” Merlin answered without turning back. Arthur had driven them to the brewery; Merlin’s car was still at the office.

“Suit yourself,” Arthur muttered to the empty car park as he entered his car. Merlin was a puzzle to him; a very cute one, true, but also too bloody difficult to solve. It seemed like everything Arthur did annoyed him – damn, it seemed like Arthur’s mere name irritated Merlin.

It was official. Merlin Emrys was the weirdest person Arthur had ever met.

He couldn’t wait to see him again.

* * *

 

Merlin wanted to – well, there was no other word – he wanted to _bitch_ about Arthur Pendragon. He contemplated calling Mordred, but he knew his fiancé would only say that Merlin was projecting so he called someone who would fully support him.

He called Morgana.

“So what if he’s hotter than the bottom of my old laptop,” he was saying to her as he went back to pick his car. The cabbie gave Merlin a funny look through the rearview mirror. Merlin ignored him. “It doesn’t give him the right to be an arse.”

 _“Nah, there are better looking family members. Have you met his cousin?”_ Trust Morgana to choose _that_ as the relevant part of what Merlin had been telling her.

“The creepy one with the dead eyes?” he asked. Merlin remembered Arthur briefly introducing him to Agravaine as he showed Merlin around.

 _“_ _Ew_ _, no!”_ Morgana replied loudly, _“Not the one who’s in love with his mother, no; the older one, Gawain.”_

Merlin vaguely remembered Arthur mentioning the name at some point in their conversation but he didn’t make much of it.

“Haven’t met that one,” he said. “How do _you_ know him?”

 _“He owns an art gallery. I like art._ ” He could practically see her shrugging. She was trying to be smooth but Morgana was well aware that Merlin knew her better than that so she changed the subject. _“Never mind that, what I still don’t understand is what has Arthur done that’s so bad.”_

“He basically said I’m too dumb to be part of his stupid board,” Merlin scoffed. He was aware that he sounded like a child but he couldn’t help it. Arthur annoyed him. And though he would never admit it, Arthur’s being nice to him irked Merlin even more.

Arthur was supposed to be the devil Merlin had been painting on his head all those years. His whole family should have been nothing but trolls. And yet he had been received by a good hearted prat with a dead mother, who probably had nothing to do with _King’s Ale_ except being married to one of its founders.  Merlin had come prepared for the worse; he didn’t know how to deal with this situation.

Of course he hadn’t met Uther yet. He could still be right about something. The rest of the family might as well be nothing but angels; it didn’t change the fact that Uther had destroyed Merlin’s.

Merlin kept chatting with Morgana until he got back to his car; they scheduled a lunch and a visit to Gawain’s gallery before hanging up.  She sounded way too excited about a bunch of paintings but Merlin chose not comment on it. He was saving it to tease her in person.

Mordred was already in bed when Merlin got home, which was odd, considering it was a bit too early for bedtime, but a note on the fridge explained it to him that Mordred had a massive headache when he got home.

Merlin felt like a dick then. He wasn’t the only one adapting to a new life. Mordred had left a promising job back in Wales to follow Merlin here, he had been nothing but supporting all these time and not once had Merlin stopped to ask him how things were going on his end.

He noticed they hadn’t even discussed wedding plans in a long time, although they had been engaged for about a year. They ought to start planning. _Merlin_ ought to start paying more attention to his boyfriend. He took a quick bath and lay next to Mordred, giving him a peck on the cheek. Merlin knew Mordred was going to wake in an hour or two to eat something, they could order some pizza then. For now he was going to cuddle his guilt away.

 

As it turned out Arthur was the only person at _Pendragon_ to give Merlin the time of his day. Besides him well, him and Elena, who had been helping Merlin to settle in; after she found the vacant room; besides the two of them no one else seemed to care about Merlin’s presence at all.

That wasn’t entirely true, actually. The ones that _did_ acknowledge his existence looked at Merlin as if he were dirt under their shoes. Merlin’s haters seemed to have a leader too. Arthur’s aunt did not take well to his taking a permanent position in the company. The way the woman looked at him gave Merlin the creeps. Her son wasn’t any better, though he didn’t appear to be as threatening.

In his first official meeting Merlin realised how much he didn’t understand about business; he was keen to learn though. So he asked questions, a lot of questions. And if people were annoyed with his ignorance in the subjects discussed, Merlin was annoyed right back with their lack of patience toward him.  All in all, things didn’t go as smoothly as he wished.

“Did you see how that Valiant bloke kept repeating everything I said as if it was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard?” he asked Arthur, stabbing at his salad.

They had gone out  for lunch after the meeting in a restaurant close to the office that Arthur recommended as having the _best lasagna ever_. Merlin was too angry for lasagna now, so he went with a Caesar salad instead, while Arthur ate his apparent favourite dish.

“What is he going to do,” he continued, “throw snakes at me because I don’t know how to do _his_ job? Oh, give me a break.”

“See,” Arthur pointed at him with his fork. “This is why people on the board give you the stinky eye. Being nice won’t cost you a penny, Merlin.”

“What?” he replied with a mouthful, “I don’t need them to like me.”

Arthur shook his head.

“That’s the thing, Merlin. You do. This is team’s work. Why do you think we have a round table?”

“Because of your big ego,” he sassed, but there was no heat on it, he wasn’t trying to pick a fight with Arthur too. And he seemed to have noticed that, because he ignored Merlin’s answer.

“To show that everyone is important,” Arthur explained. “Fine.” he put his hands up when Merlin opened his mouth to differ. “I know this is not actually what happens, there is a hierarchy, some people’s words have more weight than others, I know. But still, at _Pendragon_ everyone is entitled to give their opinion.”

Merlin snorted. “This big family of your clearly doesn’t take well to outsiders. When will I get my golden card to be part of it,” he smirked.

“Perhaps when you stop acting like everyone in the building owes you something, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur retorted.

Merlin felt like a child being scolded; but the worse was that Arthur wasn’t wrong. He was being an arsehole, deliberately. And the irony was the person who actually deserved his hatred wasn't there to receive it. Uther was on vacation for the next two weeks, Elena told him. But Merlin had a notion that if he stopped feeding this feeling until he could throw it at Uther’s face his resolution would dissolve.

It wasn’t healthy, he knew. But he fought with the weapons he had.

Putting his fork down, he rubbed at his forehead. “Okay, I promise I’ll –” he started without really knowing what he was about to promise. He didn’t know why but for some reason he didn’t want Arthur to have that impression of him. He was better than that and he wanted Arthur to know it. “I promise I’ll try to be nicer.”

It sounded hollow to Merlin’s own ears.

And Arthur wasn’t buying it either.  He shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar, Merlin,” he accused.

Merlin sighed. “I know,” he nodded. “I wish I could believe that promise myself,” he admitted.

Arthur frowned at him. “Why can’t you?”

It was Merlin’s time to shake his head, he looked down at his plate to avoid Arthur’s gaze. He couldn’t tell Arthur he had an agenda which included making Uther suffer if only a fraction of what Merlin himself had been enduring all these years. It was an ugly thing but it had been the only way Merlin had managed to channel his anger and depression before it killed him.

“I have baggage, Arthur. And its heavy and it eats at me sometimes, and er… it turns me into this… person.” He waved his hand, looking at Arthur now. “It’s not an excuse to be a prick, it’s not. It’s more like a –”

“Defense mechanism,” Arthur supplied.

Merlin nodded.

“What are you defending yourself from?”

 “Myself.”


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur hated to admit defeat but he had to. Gawain was right; his job _was_ getting in the way of his love life. Well, if he was really being honest here, it was also getting in the way of his sex life.

Not that Arthur had ever had problems pooling when he wanted to. The thing was: he hadn’t been out in a while; especially with Uther being on vacation from _Pendragon_. Arthur felt like a regent who couldn’t leave the kingdom.

So he decided to take a break from it all and enjoy his weekend. Tonight he was not going to think about numbers, meetings, phone calls, and above all, he was most definitely not going to think about Merlin. Merlin and the turmoil he brought with himself ever since he set a foot at _Pendragon_. Merlin and his ability to question every single thing he didn’t understand or agreed on. Merlin and his goofy smile, and his stupid jokes and nice arse… argh, Arthur needed to get laid.

His first option was clubbing but Gawain convinced him to go to the art gallery first. Apparently the artist exposing there this week was “Scottish ginger with a nice face; that has got to be gay, Arthur. No man who draws that many phallic objects can be straight,” according to Gawain.

Arthur shrugged to his reflection in the mirror once he was done getting ready. It was worth a shot.

 

Arthur was not sure what he wanted to do more, punch Gawain on the face or laugh at him and his terribly flawed gaydar. As it turned out, Scottish-ginger-with-nice-face, or better, Leon, was not gay. He _did_ have a thing for drawing suspicious straight lines, but all of them were dedicated to Mithian, his wife who was there with him that night.

“I hate you,” Arthur mouthed to Gwain across the room, after he had embarrassed himself by trying to hit on Leon, whose response had been ‘Though I’m flattered, mate, I think you’re more my wife’s type than mine.’ Arthur quickly excused himself after that, trying to hide his face behind a glass of champagne.

When he approached Gawain just laughed at him, the bastard. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I honestly thought he was as gay as a parade, I swear I did.”

“Well, next time check your fucking facts before coming to me,” Arthur hissed. He gave his empty glass to a passing waiter and turned back to Gawain. Only to find that all the colour had gone out of his cousin’s face.

“Gawain?” he called but Gawain was looking at something behind Arthur and didn’t seem to notice Arthur talking to him.

Arthur turned around to follow his gaze and soon he realised the cause of Gawain’s freezing. Morgana was at the door, beautiful as ever with her long dark hair and very red lips. Arthur was about to call Gawain on his high school crush when he noticed she wasn’t alone.

He was a little behind her looking as if he was not sure what to do with his hands. He hadn’t shaved since the day they met, and gosh, he could pull a beard. It was the first time Arthur saw him without a suit, he didn’t understand the first thing about fashion, but he could say for certain that the casual look suited Merlin a lot better, dark skinny jeans and deep purple button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

 “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath.

That was, of course, the moment Morgana turned to whisper something in Merlin’s ear and they both started to head in their direction. 

“Do you have an escape route?” he asked behind gritted teeth.

“I’d run but my legs won’t work,” Gawain answered in the same manner.

It was too late anyway; Morgana and Merlin were already in front of them.

“Orkney, Pendragon,” she acknowledge both of them with a nod. “May I present you my cousin, Merlin, though I believe you and Arthur go way back to last week, isn’t that right?” The question was directed to Merlin who nodded at Arthur and shook Gawain’s hand.

“Ignore her, it usually works for me,” he said to them, earning him a pinch in the arm. “Ouch!”

“Well, _I_ wouldn’t ignore a person who’s got childhood stories involving me and a certain teddy bear,” she said as Merlin vigorously rubbed his arm.

“Dying to hear those,” Gawain grinned from ear to ear at her, and then quickly at Merlin, “No offense, mate.”

Merlin shook him off. “You know something, Gawain; my aunt has _just finished_ working on another fragrance. And my dear cousin here is the head of _Avalon_ ’s marketing department. Weren’t you just looking for a place to launch the new perfume, ‘Gana?” he raised an eyebrow at her. “Perhaps Gawain could let you use his space. Why don’t you two go somewhere quieter to discuss it?”

Different from Gawain, who was blushing bright red, Morgana kept her cool. “Sure,” she answered hooking her arm with Gawain’s she pulled him to her and started to walk away, but not before Arthur could whisper “revenge is a bitch” in his ear.

“I’m sure Merlin and Arthur want some time alone too,” she smirked at Merlin as they left.

“Awkward much?” Merlin shifted on his feet in front of him.

“Not at all,” Arthur replied sarcastically.

The feeling didn’t last long between them though. Soon they started to discuss what was going on between Morgana and Gawain, or rather, what _should_ be going on if the par of them weren’t so stubborn.

That led to Arthur confessing his undying admiration towards Vivian Le Fay. Merlin made Arthur’s night by telling more storied about her. Arthur discovered that she hadn’t taken the name of her first husband, father of her first son, Lancelot.

“Du Lac, Le Fay,” Merlin laughed, “Aunt Viv has a thing for Frenchmen.”

As the night move they ended up leaving Gawain’s gallery in favour of the café around the corner, which had food and a place to sit. “Hell of an improvement from Gawain’s champagne and dick pics,” he joked after they sat on a table and ordered.

Merlin laughed. “I don’t know, I was quite enjoying the dicks.”

A red “dangerous” sign started to blink inside Arthur’s head. He ignored it.

“Trust you to like this modern art crap,” he said with a smile. “You know, the first time I saw you I actually thought you were some kind of artist, for some reason.”

“Me?” Merlin had just taken a sip of his coffee and he nearly spluttered it over the table laughing. “Oh God, no, no,” he shook his head, “I couldn’t draw a stickman to save my life. But I see why you thought that, Morgana had an art phase,” he explained. “That’s probably when she met Gawain.”

Arthur noticed how Merlin had seemed to like Gawain, he suspected it had something to do with the fact that Gawain wasn’t directly connect to the beer business. He chose not to comment on it, for the first time Merlin wasn’t throwing stones left and right, he seemed at ease, a lot more relaxed than he was at _Pendragon_. Arthur wasn’t going to spoil it.

“Can I make a personal question?” he asked after a moment where both had been silent.

“Sure,” Merlin answered. He put his elbows on the table, resting his head on his hands and leaned forward. “But I get to make one too.”

“Deal,” Arthur nodded. “When did you have your first King’s Ale?”

Merlin opened his mouth and then closed it again, shaking his head.

“What?” Arthur frowned at him.

“Nothing,” Merlin snorted. “I just – I thought you were going to ask if I’m gay.” Arthur could feel himself starting to blush; he took a sip of his coffee to try cover his embarrassment. Merlin shook his head again. “Whatever, uh… I was ten, the first time. And it felt disgusting,” he smiled pulling a face. “I thought _how could people drink that?_ I spat it all down the sink and then,” the smile dropped from his face, he looked down at the table. “Then I felt so guilty. I mean, it was my father’s work. I – I should like it.”

Merlin’s voice broke a little in the last sentence, he blinked several times before looking up again, but Arthur pretended not to notice.

Arthur cleared his throat. “I bet you like it now,” he offered and Merlin nodded. “Anyway, you beat me. I had just turn fifteen, it was the first time my father let me have any. And let me tell you, it did not end up well.”

“Drank too much?”

Arthur covered his face with his hands and laughed at the memory. “I got absolutely rat-arsed,” he told Merlin, uncovering his face when he heard a chuckle. The haunted expression from moments ago had left Merlin’s face. “You laugh at my misery,” he put a hand on his chest pretending he was affronted. “With all due respect to you father though, I could never drink it again.”

“You haven’t had a _King’s Ale_ since you were fifteen?” Merlin asked with disbelief.

“Nope,” Arthur shook his head, “Traumatized for life.”

“You are weak, Pendragon.”

Merlin’s mobile started to ring then; he looked at its screen but didn’t answer. Arthur couldn’t see the name from where he was standing, he felt a little bit ashamed of himself that he tried, but more disappointed that he couldn’t.

“I should get going,” Merlin said turning the device off and putting it back on his pocket.

Arthur looked at his watch; it wasn’t very late though they had spent at least two or three hours together. He could still go clubbing but he didn’t feel like it anymore. He told himself that it was just because he was too tired for loud music. He was a poor liar.

They decided not to go back to the gallery. Gawain and Morgana could take care of themselves. Arthur went back for his car parked in the street above and Merlin made him company.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you somewhere?” He asked for the third time when they reached his vehicle.

“’S fine,” Merlin declined again, “I’ll take the subway.”

 “Alright,” Arthur said as he entered the car and lowered the windows. Merlin leaned on it, putting his head inside the car. “Tonight was er… awkward, but fun,” he smiled.

“Kind of like your fifteenth birthday, I suppose.”

Arthur scoffed, “At least I didn’t accidently outed myself.” There he said it; he wished Merlin wasn’t looking at him so that he could cross his fingers. He could be wrong.

Merlin just laughed at him. “Have been out for a long time, mate; if you didn’t notice you might want to check your gaydar. Night, Arthur.” With that he got off the car and started to walk down the street.

Was Merlin flirting with him? Oh, Arthur was so doomed.

* * *

 _What the fuck are you doing?_ Merlin’s conscience kept asking him as he flirted with Arthur throughout the night. He still hadn’t found an answer when he got home but he tried to shake the uneasiness off and put on a smile he wasn’t really feeling it.

“Hey,” he drawled after opening the door to find Mordred watching something on his laptop in the sofa. Merlin put his key and phone on the table by the door and walked to him. “I’m sorry, I just saw your call, Morgana – –”

“Morgana pocket dialed me,” Mordred interrupted him, saving Merlin from a lie. He closed the laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. “It’s why I called you, I got worried. She clearly wasn’t with you,” he pulled a face, “she sounded… busy.”

“Oh? Oh!” Merlin suddenly realised what he meant. He giggled at Mordred’s mortified expression.

“At first I didn’t understand what was going on,” he explained. “I swear I hang up the minute I figured it out,” Mordred laughed. “Where were you during this?”

“Not there, that’s for sure,” Merlin said. “There was a – coworker there, we started talking and I lost track of time.” He found consolation in the fact that he wasn’t exactly lying, and since Mordred seemed fine with that explanation he didn’t dwell on it, going back to the Morgana subject instead. “But tell me more about this new kink of yours,” he joked sitting next to Mordred, “Voyeurism uh?”

“Gee, no thanks,” he shuddered, “I think I’m scared of straight people, Merlin.”

“You should be,” Merlin agreed, dropping down on the floor and kneeling between Mordred’s legs. He hated to admit but he was aware that he was doing this more to ease his guilty conscious than out of real desire. “Honestly though, didn’t it turn you on, even a little?” he asked moving his hands up Mordred’s thighs.

“I – I,” Mordred’s voice broke in a soft moan when Merlin put a hand inside his sweatpants. “So inappropriate to talk about your cousin while doing this,” he complained.

Merlin smiled up at him, “I shall put my mouth to better use then.”

 

His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, all over Merlin’s body. Oh and his mouth too. But of course that wasn’t possible, one only had two hands which at the moment where shaking him, and the mouth was calling his name. That wasn’t right, that accent didn’t belong to that face, and neither did that voice.

“Merlin? _Cariad_? Are you okay?” Merlin opened his eyes to find Mordred hovering over him; they had fallen asleep on the sofa. “You were moaning in your sleep.”

“I –” Merlin gazed around the room, it wasn’t too dark because they hadn’t closed the curtains the night before which meant it was probably dawn already. He then looked down at himself, and proceeded to quickly put a cushion between his groin and Mordred. “I’m fine. I don’t remember what I was dreaming,” he lied.

“You sure?” Mordred asked with a worried expression. Once Merlin nodded he got off the sofa and stretched, groaning as he did so. “I think I did something to my back.” He offered Merlin a hand. “Come, we can sleep in today. Let’s go to bed.”

Merlin accepted the help – bringing the cushion along with him – but declined the offer, “I lost sleep,” even if he could go back to sleep he was afraid he would have that dream again. “I’m gonna take a shower.” _A cold one_ , he thought.

Mordred acknowledged him with a yawn and turned to their bedroom, still half asleep. When he was alone Merlin dropped the cushion in order to use both hand to pull at his hair. He groaned in frustration.

Fucking Arthur Pendragon.

 

Merlin spent the rest of the weekend at home with Mordred. He didn’t have any more embarrassing dreams, _thank the heavens_ , and had already forgotten all about it by Monday when he got to the office. He went about doing his work, which was pretty much nothing unless there was a meeting – Arthur was right, Merlin really wasn’t of much use there – Merlin basically spent his time reading stuff, trying to understand the business, until lunchtime when Arthur nocked on his door. They had acquired the habit of eating together, either at the office, when Arthur was too busy, or going out to the restaurant around the corner.

“I never got to ask my personal question that day,” Merlin pointed during lunch, which Arthur had brought it to the office today. “How bad did your father take the news?” Arthur had just told him Uther was back from his vacation, which made Merlin remember their unfinished conversation.

“What news?”

“You being gay.”

Arthur looked at him confused.“Why would my dad care that I’m gay?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. He seems like someone who could have bigotry added in their list of sins.”

“First of all bigotry isn’t a sin, _Mer_ lin. And second, what do you mean by that?”

“Like what?” Merlin feigned ignorance.

“I don’t know, every time you talk about my father it seems like you’re describing the devil. I know he is rough, believe me, I grew up with the man, but he’s not a bad person, you know.”

“Yeah, if you say so,” Merlin mumbled looking down at his food.

Arthur wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then dropped it at his empty food carton. “You knew, then” he observed.

“I’m very perceptive,” Merlin grinned.

“Bollocks.”

“I have amazing detective skills,” he tried again.

“Don’t believe that for a second,” Arthur shook his head in disbelief.

“Morgana told me,” Merlin finally confessed.  

There was a moment of silence on which they just stared at each other, and then they burst into laughter for no reason.

“You know,” Arthur stared once they sobered up, “I blame my fifteenth birthday. I bet that was where it all started. I’d know for sure, if only I remembered,” he joked.

Merlin laughed, “I blame boarding school. I’ll those teenage boys together,” tisked shaking his head, “And not a single girl.”

“Boarding school? Posh, aren’t we?” Arthur teased.

“My aunt thought it would be good for me,” he shrugged, “plus my cousin Lance was already there, so I wasn’t completely alone.”

“It’s a school, Merlin. Lots of people. You wouldn’t be alone, even without your cousin.”

“It not a matter of quantity, Arthur,” Merlin replied with no desire of elaborating any further. He didn’t want to tell Arthur how sometimes loneliness crept its way inside of him, it didn’t matter where or with whom he was. He didn’t want to talk about how those _lots of people_ almost weren’t able to save him, so he just fast-forwarded that part, “Well, I spent my teenage years in Ireland and the rest of my life up until about a month ago I lived in Wales.”

“I never lived anywhere else,” Arthur stated, “Never left Camelot for more than a month or two, for holiday or work.”

“I knew you were boring,” Merlin sassed.

“Eat me, Emrys.”

 _For dessert?_ Merlin’s inner voice wanted to ask. Arthur’s words brought back the images from his dream. Merlin gulped, his throat suddenly going dry. He couldn’t take his eyes off Arthur, who, for his part, seemed to be having the same problem.

Merlin was afraid that if he moved he was either going to break the spell or throw caution to the wind and go for it, so he stay where he was, trying to picture dead cats.

Arthur licked his lips. “Do you wan–”

And before he could say another syllable the door behind him opened, causing both of them to jump in surprise as Elena’s blond head peeked through it.

“Arthur! I knew you would be here,” she bragged as if she had made a bet with someone concerning Arthur’s whereabouts. Merlin wouldn’t put it pass her. “Your father’s looking for you, and since you left your phone in your office he couldn’t find you anywhere, I told him you were probably lunching with Merlin, but I didn’t know if you were still in the building,” she paused to breathe finally. Merlin was amazed of the amount of words she could produce per second. “Well, Mr. Pendragon – senior,” she added quickly, “is expecting you in his office.”

Arthur blinked at her, Merlin suspected that, like him, Arthur too was still processing all the information she dropped on them. After a moment he cleared his throat and asked her to inform Uther he was on his way. Elena nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t move.

“Ellie,” Merlin called, she hadn’t looked at him this whole time until now. Merlin knew it was more to do with her flustered way than anything else. She wasn’t deliberately ignoring him. “A moment?”

“Oh, Merlin? Hi! Uh, oh, sure, sure. I’ll be, I’ll just be outside,” she babbled before closing the door.

Arthur turned back to him. “I think she just gave me a headache,” he laughed rubbing his forehead. “We should – –”

“You should go,” Merlin cut him. He couldn’t possibly hear any suggestions now, especially from Arthur. He might take them. “She is probably waiting for you.”

Arthur took a deep breath before lifting himself from the armchair. “Merlin,” he stared but didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to; Merlin knew exactly what he meant. He felt it too, and this time not even the mention of Uther had been enough to kill the flame burning inside Merlin.

“I know; me too,” he admitted casting his eyes down at the remains of his lunch.

That was his mistake.

Next thing Merlin knew his face was being pulled up by a pair of soft warm hands and Arthur’s mouth smashed into his. As Merlin’s brain froze, muscle memory worked for him and his lips parted to welcome Arthur’s tongue. He blinked twice before finally closing his eyes, acting purely by instinct, one of his hands found its way to the back of Arthur’s neck to pull him closer, a task which turned out not to be that easy since there was a desk separating them.

That was when Merlin’s brain got back into action, he let go of Arthur placing both his hands on the edge of the desk to push his chair back and put some distance between them. Arthur was practically lying on the desk; it made for quite an image. They were both breathing hard. Arthur was all flushed, he pulled himself up and tried to smooth his shirt and tie by running his hands down his chest.  He wasn’t making any progress but Merlin thought it best not to say anything, he was pretty sure he didn’t look any better.

“Fucking table,” Arthur muttered under his breath at the same time someone gave a weak nock on the door, but no one came in.

“It’s probably Elena,” Merlin said causing Arthur to finally give up on his clothing and look back at him.

“We’re not done,” he kindly informed before leaving the room with the coyest expression Merlin had ever seen.

Merlin banged his head on desk. Hard.  And the groan he let out had more had more to do with frustration than physical pain. What was wrong with him? He had a perfect, uncomplicated man at home, with whom Merlin was getting married to. Well, eventually. Why did his traitor body and even more traitor mind have to start developing _feelings_ for Arthur? It wasn’t fair. He was here on a revenge mission of sorts; not to – _Jesus_ – not to fall in love.


	6. Chapter 6

Morgause spotted Uther the moment she set a foot out of the car, his parking space being right in front hers. She had to call after him; however, seeing as their cars were parked in the same direction and Uther had not noticed her behind him.

“I see your time in the Caribbean did you good,” she complimented his tan as she reached him and they took the elevator.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged her with a nod. “I expect my company hasn’t fallen apart during my absence.”

“As if _I_ would ever allow such a thing,” she retorted, mirroring his smug expression. “Although you should know we do have a new… associate.” Noticing how Uther didn’t seem particularly interested in the information, she waited until they were out of the elevator to proceed. “Well?”

“Hm?” He inquired as he stopped at his secretary’s desk to ask her about his appointments. Morgause tried to swallow down her pride but she kept her head held high as she waited silently for him to give a minute of his precious time. She was not his damn doormat, he would look at her when she spoke to him, or she wouldn’t speak at all. It took some time, but eventually his gaze turned to her. “Do tell me, who is this new associate?” he finally asked with the tone of someone’s whose patience was running thin.

“Emrys,” Morgause announced, and all the waiting was made worth when she saw all colours leave Uther’s face. “Junior, of course,” she added with a mischievous smile before walking away.

 

Since Emrys did not have a secretary Morgause entered his room unannounced, catching him off guard. His mouth was open as if he was about to say something and then realised she was not the person he was expecting. A deer caught in the-headlights expression together with the slight blush upon his cheeks supported her theory.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Morgause apologized. “I was just curious to know if Uther had paid you a visit already.” She narrowed her eyes glancing from Emrys’ face to the computer screen; there was a series of Excel tables open along with a few graphics and scales on a Word document in the bottom of the screen. “I’m sorry, but what exactly are you doing?”

“None of your business,” he answered hurriedly shutting off the screen, although not fast enough to avoid Morgause from noticing _Avalon’s_ logo in the files.

“Extracurricular activities?” She asked pointing at the computer.

“No, Uther didn’t come to see me,” Merlin replied, glaring at her as if he could make her disappear with a thought. “Can I help you with something else?” he asked with a hostile expression.

“Yes,” she said walking further into the room, “You can tell me what you think you’re doing here?” Merlin opened his mouth but she knew what he was going to say so she added, “I mean in this building. You don’t belong here. Your name is not in the front door,” she smirked down at him.

Merlin tilted his head to the side like a dog. “Neither is yours,” he shot back.

Morgause scoffed. She wanted to strangle him with his ridiculous tie, which, much like his shirt, was all wrinkled and out of place. She wasn’t going to stand there and take insults from someone who couldn’t even dress himself properly.

“Listen,” she began, just to be rudely interrupted by him.

“No, you listen,” he said getting up from his chair so fast that it hit the wall behind him when he stood up. “Get the fuck out of my office. You’re not welcome here, I don’t give a fuck if you worship the ground Uther Pendragon steps on,” he scowled. “I have as much right to be here as you do. So suck it up, because I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

She held his gaze as he furiously glared at her. “It must have hurt so badly,” she said in low voice leaning closer, “to know that your parents would still be alive if you weren't such a whiny child.”

Morgause looked down to see his hands turning into fists but he didn’t make a move against her. “Get. Out,” he snarled between gritted teeth.

Agravaine was waiting for her when she got back to her own room, he started to talk as soon as she entered the office and only stopped once he notice she wasn’t paying attention to his ramblings.

“Something wrong, mother?” he asked with a worried look on his face. It brought a genuine smile from her. There, in front of her, was the only person Morgause was certain she could count on.

“Yes, there’s something wrong,” she confirmed. “We have to get rid of Merlin Emrys.”

* * *

 

When way too much time had passed after Morgause’s visit and Merlin’s heartbeat hadn’t returned to normal and his hands hadn’t stop shaking he decide it was time to leave the building. At this point in his life he was well acquainted with the symptoms of an anxiety attack. He needed to be around someone who knew how to deal with him in this state.

Merlin dialed Mordred’s number once he entered his car. It went straight to voicemail. He’d forgotten Mordred was assisting an audience today.

Merlin was hyperventilating, the tie around his neck was making him feel claustrophobic so he took it off and toss it in the passenger sit, opening a few buttons of his shirt then to try and  breathe better.

He needed air, opening the door Merlin turned around; he put his legs out of the car and lowered his head down between them, taking deep breaths.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured to himself, “she is wrong, it wasn’t me,” Merlin repeated with every breath. “I didn’t kill my parents.” He needed to get out of there but he was not stupid enough to pretend he could drive like this, Merlin could barely work his mobile – with his shaky hand – for long enough to call his second best option, who thankfully answered in the second ring. “Arthur,” he heaved, “I need your help.”

* * *

 

Arthur found Merlin siting on the floor, his back against the car and his shirt unbuttoned. He was scratching furiously at his left wrist, hurting the knuckles of the right hand on the clasp of his bracelet. Merlin didn’t seem to be aware of any of those things. He had sounded so desperate on the phone that Arthur had dropped everything and ran to his aid.

Seeing Merlin like this now was just a confirmation that he’d made the right call.

Arthur sat down in front of him, gently taking Merlin’s hands in his. “Merlin,” he called softly, “Merlin, look at me.” When he did so Arthur notice that though his eyes were red rimmed they were dry, with a vacant look on them.

“I didn’t kill my parents, Arthur,” Merlin told him in a broken whisper, “it wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not, Merlin,” Arthur reassured him, squeezing his hands. “You were a child.” Merlin nodded, but he was still breathing too hard for Arthur’s liking. He wasn’t an expert on panic attacks so he asked Merlin what he should do.

“Call doctor Kilgharrah,” Merlin instructed him casting a glance at his phone on the ground between his legs. “Johann Kilgharrah, call him.”

Arthur let go of one of his hands to take the mobile. As much as he didn’t wanted to intrude he also wanted to know how he could help Merlin, so after finding the number and pressed the call button and put it on speaker, holding the device between him and Merlin.

“ _Merlin?”_ the doctor answered in the first ring. “ _How can I help you, young man_?”

Merlin opened his mouth to speak but the only thing that came out was a strangled noise, followed by a sob.

Arthur brought the phone closer to his mouth, “Doctor Kilgharrah, this is Arthur Pendragon. I’m Merlin’s friend, I’m with him now, and he’s having a panic attack. I need you to tell me what to do.” He explained without taking his eyes from Merlin.

 _“Very well, Arthur. First of all, I need you to tell me how his breathing is._ ”

“A bit – a bit hard,” Arthur stuttered as he searched Merlin’s face for any sign that indicated he might be about to pass out or something. He was pale as a ghost but he didn’t seemed about to faint.

 _“Alright, that is to be expected. I assume he can hear me as well_.” The doctor didn’t wait for an answer to continue, “ _Merlin, listen to me. Arthur is going to talk to you, and you are going to focus only on his voice, understood?_ ” When Merlin didn’t answer he asked again with a firmer tone, “ _Is that understood, Merlin?_ ”

“Yeah,” Merlin breathed. And for a moment Arthur was afraid Kilgharrah hadn’t heard him but soon he started talking again.

“ _Forget whatever you’re thinking now, Merlin,_ ” he said in a soothing tone. _“Now you just focus on Arthur. Talk to him, mister Pendragon._ ”

“About what,” Arthur asked; his mind suddenly blank.

“ _Anything that does not involve either your father or your company,_ ” the doctor replied, and Arthur thought it was worth mentioning to him what Merlin had said about his parents. “ _No, no, let’s not talk about that. Merlin knows he is not to blame. Tell him a story, Arthur. Talk about a happy memory of yours.”_

Arthur scavenged his brain for anything he could tell Merlin that would fit that criteria. It was harder that he imagined, finding a happy memory that didn’t involve his career. Most of the moments which made him feel content with himself where moments when _Uther_ had displayed signs of being proud of Arthur.

Talking about his mother was also more painful than happy, which left Arthur with only one last option. He called Merlin and waited for him to look up before starting to speak, “You know, there’s actually _one thing_ I remember from my fifteenth birthday,” he smiled, “It involves Gawain and a barrel of apples.”

* * *

 

It took two of Arthur’s stories for Merlin to get himself under control; Kilgharrah had ended the phone call half way to the first one, and then it took Merlin more twenty minutes to convince Arthur that he was well enough to drive on his own.

“What if it happens again while you’re driving?” he had asked with his hands on his hips, clearly trying to hide his worry behind fake annoyance. And he called _Merlin_ a bad liar.

“It won’t,” Merlin had to reassure Arthur for the tenth time. “I’m too exhausted to have another fit.” Arthur just stared at him with an unconvinced expression. “Seriously, I just need to go home. I’ll be fine, Arthur.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Arthur had insisted.

 _I won’t be,_ Merlin thought. But for some reason he didn’t want to share that with Arthur. So instead he repeated, “I’ll be fine.”

After he got home, Merlin texted “safe and sound” to Arthur, just to put him at ease. The only thing bothering him now, beside a mild headache, was the throbbing sensation on his wrist. The skin there was red and tender from all the scratching, but Merlin ignored it all and headed straight to bed, falling asleep before his head hit the pillow.

It was dark when Merlin woke up with the sound of the front door being open and closed. Since usually Mordred was the one who came home first he was startled when he entered their bedroom.

“Jesus!” he gasped placing a hand over his heart. “Scared the living shit out of me, Merlin,” he smiled once he recovered from the shock. “What are you doing home so early?” The smiled was gone quickly when Mordred took notice of Merlin’s appearance; he dropped his back pack on the floor and sat on the bed next to Merlin. “What happened, _cariad_?”

Merlin launched himself into Mordred’s arms then, “I had a panic attack,” he muffled into Mordred’s neck. “I tried to call you.”

“I’m sorry, Merlin. I wish I could have been there for you,” Mordred said as he ran his hands through Merlin’s hair and down his back.

Merlin closed his eyes, taking comfort in the familiarity of Mordred’s smell. Together with his natural scent was the perfume Merlin had made for him two years ago. The formula had been a birthday present, it wasn’t commercialized. Merlin himself was responsible for the refills.

Mordred gave him one last squeeze before letting go in order to look at Merlin’s face. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Merlin answered, and knowing that Mordred would press him for more, he added, “I’m fine now, I had help and I called Kilgharrah.”

“Alright,” he smiled sympathetically at Merlin, in a manner that Merlin knew too well to be Mordred’s way of _not really saying_ that there was something else in his mind he was afraid to share.

Merlin frowned at him, yet he grinned when he asked, “What?”

“Don’t you think that maybe you should start taking meds again?” Mordred replied with a worried frown upon his brow.

Merlin had stopped with the medicine about a year before he even met Mordred. He had been out of it ever since, and it was one of the best things on his life now, not to depend on any medication to go through the day. He hated the way it always made him feel numb, like all colours had faded and all food had lost its taste.

“I hope not,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “ _God_ , I hope not.”

* * *

 

Merlin had called in sick the next day. And the day after. To make matters worse he ignored all of Arthur’s calls, answering him only through text messages. It was infuriating.

Arthur also noticed how Morgause smiled from ear to ear during Merlin’s absence, probably thinking that she managed to scare him away. Arthur couldn’t help himself, after Merlin had left that day he asked Elena and the receptionist of Merlin’s floor if either of them knew about something that might have upset Merlin; when they both declined Arthur went to talk to the head of security and asked to see the footage from that day.

Although everyone was entitled to their privacy inside the rooms, each corridor in the building had a CCTV camera. In the black and white video Arthur saw his aunt enter Merlin’s office and then leave a few minutes later. No one else came in and neither did Merlin come out, not until about ten minutes later. The camera’s resolution wasn’t the best but even so it was clear enough to show how distressed Merlin looked.

Arthur paused then. He thanked Percival, the security bloke, and asked him to keep Arthur’s request and what they saw in the video between themselves. For his part, the worse thing for Arthur was to see that not a single person glanced at Merlin’s direction as he passed. He knew Morgause didn’t like Merlin; he wasn’t surprised that she would do something like that, whatever she said to him.

But Merlin was such a likable person – even if he tried to be an arsehole sometimes –, the fact that no one from that floor had befriended him was not only sad, but also quite odd; at least to Arthur.

He had the pleasure of seeing Morgause drop a tea cup down on her Italian stilettos the day Merlin got back to work. She strode back to her office, snarling curses as Lot and Agravaine trailed after her like puppies. It made Arthur think back to the day Merlin had accused Uther of nepotism. Whereas, Morgause was essential to _Pendragon_ , managing the financial department, and Lot did a fine job in Marketing, Agravaine was nothing but a glorified errand boy; looking at him now Arthur had no option but to agree with Merlin on that one.

 

Arthur didn’t want to wait until lunchtime to have a chance of talking to Merlin so he asked him to go to his office, to which Merlin answered he would once he had settled himself. And true to his word, five minutes later he was entering Arthur’s room – sans knocking – with no satchel and without the jacket of his suit.

Curiosity was eating at Arthur and as much as he didn’t want to pry, the words were out of his mouth the minute Merlin crossed the threshold. “Doctor Kilgharrah… Is he your psychologist? Did you use to self-harm? That’s why you wear the bracelet all the time, to keep you from doing it?”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of questions,” Merlin chuckled, “Good morning for you too, Arthur.”

Arthur mentally kicked himself. This was a delicate matter, and he was acting like a bull on a china shop. “You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just – I couldn’t help noticing you have a scar.”

“No, it’s fine. I guess after what happen that day I owe you an explanation. Kilgharrah is my psychiatrist, actually. Sometimes I have this… anxiety attacks; it hasn’t happen in years though. I guess it is stress because of work, you know, changing jobs, working here,” he shrugged looking at Arthur with the face of someone who knew they were not being very convincing.

There was nothing less stressful than Merlin’s work in that company, he literally didn’t do anything. That was possibly the worse excuse he could have come up with, even if Arthur didn’t know about Morgause.

When Merlin seemed to be done with his explanation Arthur realised he hadn’t mentioned the scar, but he thought better not to push it. He had no business sticking his nose into Merlin’s personal life.

“Aaaanyway,” Merlin said after a moment of silence. “Now I’m here, I’m queer,” he giggled, “not that that has anything to do with anything really.”

“Good to know you’re back to being a buffoon then,” Arthur teased, taking a piece of paper from his desk to make a ball and throw at Merlin. “It suits you better,” he added as the paper hit Merlin’s face.

“And you’re a back to being a gigantic prat,” Merlin answered as he tried to hit Arthur back but missed by miles. “And by gigantic I mean fat.”

An indignant scoff escaped Arthur’s lips, “I’ll show you fat.”

 Arthur was out of his chair in a second. Sensing danger Merlin got up right after him. He laughed as Arthur chased him around the office. The room was big, but not enough that Merlin could outrun Arthur; the furniture gave him some advantage but once he headed for the door it was easy for Arthur to grab him by the arm.

Turning him around Arthur slammed Merlin not-so-gently against the wall beside the door. “Gotcha,” he smirked taking both of Merlin’s arms and holding them above his head.

“Yeah,” Merlin said slightly out of breath. “Whatcha gonna do now?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

Arthur was sure that in the back of his mind he had a witty come back prepared, but then Merlin darted his tongue out to lick at his bottom lip and another part of Arthur’s body started to do thinking for him.

Merlin beat him this time though, closing the almost none existent distance between them to kiss him.


	7. Chapter 7

It took Merlin a moment to realise that, the cause of the sudden absence of Arthur’s mouth on his was because it was currently making its way down Merlin’s neck and collarbone.

“I love your scent.” Arthur’s voice was muffled because he had his whole face buried in the base of Merlin’s neck. The feel of Arthur’s hot breath in the sensitive spot turned Merlin on more than he cared to admit.

Merlin gave a small laugh, “The perks of working with perfume.” But soon he stopped talking because Arthur’s mouth was still going south and it didn’t look like it was about to stop. “Jesus!” Merlin sighed, he couldn’t do this, he was engaged, for Christ’s sake, and to top it all this was the son of the man who had destroyed his family. Yet, Merlin couldn’t bring himself to stop what was happening. Neither could he deny the burning attraction he felt for Arthur. Hell! The man had acquired the annoying tendency of popping up in Merlin’s mind sometimes, when he was in bed with Mordred.

No! He couldn’t do that to Mordred, he had to stop now, he –

Merlin was so lost inside his own mind, he didn’t see what Arthur was doing, and his body was acting of its own accord, responding to Arthur’s touch, to the hot feeling of his mouth, now just above Merlin’s waistband. He felt Arthur’s hand on his fly, and that brought Merlin back to reality.

“Arthur” he moaned when Arthur’s hand unconsciously brushed his crotch and Merlin felt his knees give in. Only the wall behind him and Arthur’s hand were keeping him upright.  “I can’t.” Merlin was out of breath, like he had just run a marathon.  He was displeased with himself. He used to have more self-control.

Arthur’s hand stopped, he looked up and Merlin lost all the air he had left. Arthur’s hair was mussed; his cheeks were red because of Merlin’s stubble, his pupils blown wide. He looked beautiful.

“Tell me you don’t want it. Tell me you don’t want me,” Arthur asked from where he was, kneeling in front of Merlin.

Merlin swallowed hard. He couldn’t say no, he didn’t want to, even though he should. He closed his eyes, combed his fingers through Arthur’s soft golden hair. It was all the answer Arthur needed. He opened Merlin’s trousers and pulled it down along with Merlin’s underwear. The cold air hit Merlin, threatening to clear his mind but soon the heat of Arthur’s mouth was on him, and then he was on Arthur’s mouth, and Merlin could not think about anything that wasn’t the sensations running through his body.

Merlin moaned, he heard, no, he felt Arthur moaning as well. And fuck, Merlin wasn’t going to last. After a while Merlin’s lost his rhythm, or was it Arthur? He couldn’t be sure, but either way it wasn’t long before Merlin’s world went white and he felt boneless.

Merlin had no idea how long he stayed like that, supporting himself on the wall behind him but when he opened his eyes, which he didn’t even realized he had closed, Arthur was sitting on the floor beside Merlin, and he seemed to have taken care of himself while Merlin was out. Merlin pulled his pants up and slid to the floor next to Arthur.

“Back on earth?” Arthur asked affectionately, he reached for one of Merlin’s ears but Merlin flinched away. “Hey, are you okay?”

“No,” Merlin said with a humorless laugh. All those thoughts he was suppressing came back to him at once, the reasons why this was wrong, in so many levels. “I just –” _cheated on my fiancé_ , he left unsaid. Merlin rubbed his face with both hands, pulling himself up. “No, I’m not okay. This isn’t me.”  He turned to the door, hoping that if he went away fast enough the memories of what just happened wouldn’t follow him home to torment his nights, but Arthur’s words stopped him.

“Where are you going?”

“Sorry, I just. I just can’t stand the huge fucking mistake I’ve just made.” Merlin looked back at Arthur one last time, and then left, wishing he hadn’t seen the hurt on Arthur’s eyes.

* * *

 

For the first time in his life Gawain was nervous about the prospect of bringing a woman to his place. He had been seeing Morgana for the past few days, since the day she came by the gallery with Merlin. And even though they had only gone out once after that day, they talked to each other every day.

Gawain almost broke his arm trying to pat himself in the back for having the courage to take that extra step towards Morgana, _with_ Morgana, he mentally corrected himself. If she hadn’t made that first move Gawain wouldn’t have the guts to do it.

That night, after the initial awkwardness that arose between then when they left Merlin and Arthur alone, Morgana and he had got along like a house on fire. As he knew they would, because she was pretty fucking amazing, and amazing people tended to get along together. They ended up discussing business for most of the night; Morgana had actually thought that Merlin’s idea was great, and so they talked about her perfume’s launching.

When they went back for Arthur and Merlin the two of them were nowhere to be found. Gawain suggested that they might have been somewhere… private. He was pretty good at reading people and he saw the way Merlin and Arthur looked at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Morgana dismissed the idea by saying that Merlin was engaged to some bloke he lived with. But when she spoke she sound a lot like she was not only trying to convince him, but also herself that there was nothing there. Morgana was far from stupid, though, she had noticed too.

Gawain finished getting ready, taking the subject out of his mind. Arthur and Merlin were grown-ups and could take care of themselves. When the doorbell rang his stomach did a backflip. That night they had only gotten as far as making out in the backseat of her car, for as the host, Gawain couldn’t leave the expo alone for much longer. So Morgana left promising she would come back for them to finish what they started.

Since they both had crazy schedules they had only manage to find time for a coffee so far. And today they were going out for lunch. Later, Gawain hoped. His mobile rang when he was on his way to get the door and Gawain answered Arthur’s phone call with a text saying that he was with Morgana and would call later.

He opened the door with the sexiest smile he could summon to disguise his anxiety. “My lady,” Gawain welcomed Morgana; she was wearing some kind of female suit he didn’t know the name of. She looked absolutely stunning. “Welcome to my castle.”

Gawain lived in the top of his gallery. He had been fascinated with medieval art since he was kid and he had used this as inspiration to decorate his place. There were swords hanging on his walls and a plate armor behind the sofa. He wasn’t being snobbish when he used the word castle.

“If this is your castle,” Morgana said looking around as she entered. “What’s my role here?” She turned to glance and him, a devious smirk upon her red lips. “Am I a damsel in distress, a maiden…” with every suggestion she took another step towards Gawain until she backed him up against the door, “a mistress?”

Gawain placed a hand on her back and used it to push her body against his. Smiling down at her, he shook his head no to each one of her options until he got to answer, “A queen.”

* * *

 

It too some time for Arthur to put himself together after Merlin left, and then he ended up going out for lunch with Elena, since Gawain was too busy fucking Merlin’s cousin to answer his damn phone. She had taken one look at him and asked, “Boy trouble?”, and proceeded to fuss over him like a mother hen, saying that there was nothing better to cure a broken heart than chocolate.

Elena hooked an arm around Arthur’s and all but dragged him out of the building to her favourite ice cream shop to get Arthur the biggest chocolate milk-shake he had ever seen in his life. It classified as lunch, Arthur was sure of it; he certainly wouldn’t be able to eat anything for hours after that.

It was only after they were all settled with their drinks that Elena gave Arthur permission to _put his heart out_. And she was whether very perceptive or Arthur was not as subtle as he thought because before he even opened his mouth she asked, “Is Merlin, isn’t it?”

And it was like she had taken a lid out of Arthur mouth; for he started rambling right then, “He just left! We – uh, never mind – and then he just left saying he had made a mistake. I don’t understand, I –” he sighed. Elena reached out and put her hand over his on the table, giving it a squeeze. “Oh Ellie, I think I’m in love with him,” Arthur confessed as much to himself as to Elena.

She smiled one of her everything-is-going-to-be-fine smiles. “I don’t see how that is a bad thing, Arthur.”

“He ran away right after I blew him in my office, Elena! How is that not a bad thing?” Only after the words were out of his mouth he realised what he had actually said. Elena was looking at him with wide eyes and openmouthed. Arthur could only feel the heat upon his cheeks, but he knew he was probably as red as a tomato right now.

“First,” she began after a moment of awkward silence, “that was too much information, _boss_.” Arthur cleared his throat. So embarrassing. If it was someone else in front of him he would already be expecting some kind of law suit for sexual harassment in the near future. But Elena, bless her, just dismissed his concern with a wave of her hand. “Second, if he shagged you, mate, he clearly has something for you; ‘cause I don’t think Merlin would cheat on his fiancé just ‘cuz he’s got the hots for you.”

Elena took a big sip of her milk-shake after she finished her speech. Arthur’s heart was beating too fast out of the sudden and he could do nothing more than blink at her. _Merlin’s what?_

But Elena mistook his dumbstruck expression and, putting the cup down, she began to apologize. “Oh, I mean sir, not mate – I mean, I thought we were friend, but –,” she stammered, flapping her hands in an exasperated manner. “Boss?” she tried one last time before Arthur took her out of her misery.

“You might as well be calling me a piece of crap, Elena. Because you have got to be shitting me right now. What do you mean Merlin’s got a fiancé?”

“You,” she said very slowly, “didn’t know?”

Arthur felt betrayed. _Fuck_ , he had been. Merlin had trusted him enough to call Arthur in his worst hour, they were friends – more than that – they were _close_. He shook his head to Elena, noticing that she was still waiting for an answer. She bit her lower lip, looking at him with something too close to pity for Arthur’s liking.

“What are you going to do?” Elena asked after some time.

“Now I’m going to order another one of this,” he answered raising his milk-shake. It seemed that he would need more chocolate than he had thought. “And then we are taking the rest of the day off.”

Elena’s expression softened. “If the boss says so,” she smiled.

“The boss says so, yeah. But you’ll be spending the afternoon with your mate,” he nodded. It was good to know that whatever happens between Merlin and him, at least Arthur would have this. He knew he had found a friend for life in Elena.

* * *

 

Merlin spent the rest of the day trying to open a hole on the floor of his living room by pacing back and forth, while simultaneously biting his nails to the point of almost drawing blood from his fingers tips. He didn’t have the courage to call Mordred so he waited for him to get home. Merlin couldn’t hide what happened from him, it wouldn’t be fair. No, Mordred deserved better than that. He deserved better than Merlin at this point. Merlin owed him the truth.

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat when, by the end of the afternoon, the door was finally opened; that was also the moment his tears began to fall.  “I am sorry, Mordred. I’ve made a huge mistake,” Merlin’ voice broke into a sob but he didn’t let it stop him. He took a deep breath and spoke before Mordred had the change to, “I slept with someone else.”

“What?” Mordred breathed out, in a tone just above a whisper. He opened and closed his mouth several times, like he was still processing what Merlin had just said, or perhaps he hadn’t heard it.

Thinking that was the case Merlin started to repeat, “I said I – –”

But Mordred raised his hand to stop him, shaking his head. “I heard you, Merlin,” he snapped, lowering his hand he clenched both his fists so tightly his knuckles turned red. When Merlin’s eyes went back to his face, he saw that Mordred’s jaw was locked just as tight and he was glaring at Merlin with a furious look.

Merlin was too ashamed to hold his gaze for much longer, so lowering his head he offered with a flat voice, “If you want to punch me, go ahead.” He slowly raised his eyes and then his head, turning the left side of his face up. His chest heaved rapidly with short breaths in anticipation.

“Oh, for fuck sakes, Merlin,” Mordred shouted. “Who the fuck do you think I am?” he relaxed his arms and brought a hand to the back of his head, pulling at the short hair on his nape.

Merlin sniffed, cleaning his nose with the back of his hand, he sat on the coffee table. “I screwed up, I deserve it,” he whined, looking down at the carpet. He rather Mordred hit him than to see the hurt on his face. Merlin had been the cause of that to one too many people today.

Mordred ignored him, instead he demanded in in a flat tone, “Who?” When Merlin started to shake his head saying that it didn’t matter he snapped again, “Of course it matters!”

“Arthur,” Merlin murmured, and then he gulped as he finally looked up at Mordred. “Arthur Pendragon,” he repeated.

The reveal seemed to shock Mordred enough that he had to sit down; he chose the floor instead of the sofa, probably to get more distance from Merlin. He rubbed his hands over his face for a few seconds before looking at Merlin again; his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“You are a selfish person, Merlin,” he broke his silence after several minutes. It was the last thing Merlin expected him to say. He blinked at Mordred and waited for his follow up. “I never pushed you,” Mordred continued with a grave expression upon his face. “Because I know you have your problems and I’ve always tried to respect your space,” he shook his head. “But I’m not stupid, Merlin. You’ve been distant, ever since we got here.”

“I wasn’t trying to push away. This city… I think maybe Camelot brings the worst of me.”

“No, Merlin,” Mordred objected. “This city has done you nothing, and neither did Uther Pendragon, to be honest with you.” Merlin opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it again. “When you said you wanted to come back, I rearranged my whole life so that I could come with you. And no, I’m not asking anything in return, I did it because I loved you.” He blinked and a tear ran down his face. “I still do,” Mordred croaked. “That’s why I’m telling you this. You’ve gotta let go of your guilt, Merlin.”

“I don’t – –”

“You _do_. You feel guilty that you’ve cheated, so you ask me to hit you; you feel guilty that you haven’t been giving me enough attention so you have sex with me.” He stopped to take a deep breath and Merlin knew exactly what he was going to say next. “You feel guilty that your parents died, and when you couldn’t bear that guilt anymore you blamed someone else.”

“You’re done analysing me?” Merlin asked, even though he was in no position to be sarcastic.

“I’m not your shrink, Merlin. But from where I’m standing I think the problem is not what you feel, is how you deal with it.”

Merlin snorted, he couldn’t help himself. How did they get there? Mordred was supposed to be yelling at him for shagging Arthur, not giving him this cheap psychology. “So I’m self-destructive, then. Is that what you’re saying?” He sighed and then tried to go back to the point of their discussion, without waiting for an answer. “I just wanted you to know about Arthur, because _you_ deserve to know, so that we can move on.”

“I appreciated the honesty,” glancing at Merlin with a softer look. “But we’re not moving on, Merlin. Not together.”

“What? No!” Merlin protested, “You can’t end everything over one mistake. We are getting married.” His voice was louder now, he was practically shouting, but at the moment Merlin couldn’t care less about being heard by noisy neighbors.

“If this is your moment of truth, try and be honest to yourself too, please. How can we get marry if you’re in love with somebody else?”

Merlin had to laugh at that, “You think I’m in love with Arthur, because we fucked once?”

“No, Merlin,” Mordred replied, getting up from the floor. “I _know_ you’re in love with Arthur because, besides Elena, he is the only other person in that place you said you interact with,” he said, dusting off his trousers. “And when is something about her you use her name,” Mordred smiled sadly. “Otherwise you’re just having lunch or doing this or that with a _friend from work_.  Oh and also,” he paused for a moment before concluding, “you moan his name in your sleep.”

Merlin was left with no arguments to refute that so he simply said, “I’ll sleep on the sofa today.”

“Please, do,” Mordred agreed before walking away to the bedroom. And Merlin did a poor job at pretending it didn’t affect him when he heard the door being locked.

* * *

 

Lot had always been a good husband, he was devoted to her and had given Morgause her most precious treasure, the boys. So it was for those qualities alone that, every once in a while, she indulged him with intercourse. Lord knew that for all his goodness Lot was _not_ a good lover. But Morgause had plenty of those at her disposal, and her husband pleased her in many other ways. Their sexual activities were merely her way of giving back – or better, reward him – for his kindness.

She patiently waited a few moments after he was finished to remove herself from under his dead weight, and then went shower. Afterwards as Morgause was drying her hair and Lot was taking his bath, she approached the subject that had been on her mind since Lot had initiated their intimacy.

“We should do something for Uther’s birthday,” she had to almost shout to be heard over the sound of the hair dryer and the shower.

“What?” Lot shouted back at her.

“I said,” she started again after turning off the dryer, “We should do something for Uther’s birthday. He is going to be sixty in two days. I know we are a little short in time, but I can certainly arrange something. A small family reunion, maybe.”

Lot closed the shower and stepped out of it, wrapping a towel around his waist. “Yes, I think it’s a good idea,” Morgause saw him nodding from her peripheral vision, but she paid him no mind. She wasn’t really asking for his opinion, her mind was made up.

“Since we made for most of the family I believe it’s fitting that we host the reunion here.”

“It seems like you have all planed out, my dear.”

“As a matter of fact,” she replied, smiling at her own reflection in the mirror, “I do.”


	8. Chapter 8

At around three in the morning Merlin realised he wouldn’t get any sleep that night so he gave up trying. Luckily his laptop wasn’t locked in the bedroom; he took it from the counter where it had been charging and sat with it on the floor, resting his back against the sofa.

He needed a distraction so he decided that work would be the best thing for his mind now. Merlin opened the files Gwen – Lance’s wife and Merlin’s former lab partner – had sent to him a few days ago. Truth was, Merlin had never officially left _Avalon_. He left his laboratory in Wales but he never resigned. And since he had nothing to do at _Pendragon_ Merlin tried to do whatever work he could by email.

It was yet another thing which, sometimes, made him feel like he was living a double life.

Be that as it may, right now work was a welcomed diversion. And Merlin was actually late with those reports, he was supposed have emailed them back to Gwen already, but Morgause had caught him when he first opened the files and after that it was one thing after another and Merlin had all but forgotten about them.

He finished at around five in the morning, attaching a personal letter to the email, apologizing for being late and also for not being in touch like he had promised to, and then he sent it all to Gwen and shut down the computer.

Merlin sat in the dark for a few minutes before pulling himself up, he ate the remains of a cold leftover he found in the fridge and headed to the shower. Merlin had no option but to put on the same close, except the underwear, he rather go commando than to put on used boxers.

When he was done he wandered around the flat like a ghost until he started to hear sounds coming from the bedroom, alerting him that Mordred was already up. Merlin wasn’t ready to talk to him again, so he left – a good deal of time earlier – for work.

 

He was dozing off on his office when Mordred came in. Merlin was woken with a start by the sound of the door being opened.

“I came to give you the keys to your flat,” he announced after closing the door behind him. He didn’t look like he had gotten much sleep either. There were circles under his eyes and they seemed a little puffed. Merlin hated himself for doing that to Mordred.

“What? No, no. It’s our place. Don’t go,” Merlin pleaded.

“I’m sorry, Merlin,” Mordred sighed, “I can’t –”

“I’ll leave. I can stay with Morgana for a while.” Merlin knew that if Mordred left it wouldn’t be just to another flat, he would go back to Wales. “I’ll give you some time, but please, don’t give up on us.”

Mordred sniffed but didn’t say anything for a moment; he looked around at the office and shook his head. “This place doesn’t look like you. What are you doing here, Merlin?”

He couldn’t be more right. Merlin was a lab rat through and through, and he added personal touches to every surface of his work place whenever he could. His office at _Pendragon_ was nothing but four bare walls and a desk. It was only now that Merlin noticed he hadn’t even changed the background image on the computer.

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted in a whisper, feeling lost. He could also feel his eyes getting wet. “Mordred, please…”

“Fine,” Mordred nodded without looking at him. “I’ll stay,” he said finally looking at Merlin again, but there was no time for him to call that a victory, because Mordred added “if you don’t”, before leaving without another word. And Merlin was left to stare at the closed door while he contemplated the mess he had made with his life.

* * *

 

Arthur wanted nothing more than to have another day off with Elena; she proved herself to be a company as good as Gawain’s, and just as funny too. For the rest of the day, after the milk-shakes, Ellie had done everything within her power to keep Arthur’s mind from driving him crazy, overthinking his situation with Merlin. And she did a good job at it, but, eventually, Arthur came down from his sugar high and reality was back to remind him he had fallen for a bloke who was engaged to another man.

So every time Merlin popped into his mind – which was more often than not – Arthur wished he could hook an arm around Elena’s and drag her to another walk in the park or something. For a moment that thought made Arthur feel as if he was using her, but then he realised that, Merlin or no Merlin, he would still prefer to go out with Elena than to have to discuss whatever the hell Agravaine was trying to discuss with him. In all honest, Arthur was so lost in thoughts his father’s voice almost caused him to jump out of his skin.

 “Arthur!” he heard, and turned to see his father coming in their direction, completely unaware of the fact that he almost gave his only son a heart attack. “Give this to Merlin, will you?”

 _A good morning for you too, sir_ , Arthur thought bitterly, though he knew better than to sass Uther in the middle of their work place, where his father practically reigned as a king. Arthur would be executed for treason, heir or not. So instead Arthur accepted that his father was way too busy to bother with greetings and looked down at what he was supposed to deliver to – only then Arthur’s brain registered the name – Merlin.

“You’re inviting him to you birthday?” he frowned, looking from the card to Uther.

“Yes,” Uther replied as if that was the most obvious thing to do. “And since you’re close to him I think you’re the best person to deliver it.” He pushed the card into Arthur’s hand and turned to Agravaine. “You, come with me.” Uther didn’t waste another breath on the subject, walking away with Agravaine on his tail.

Weighing his options carefully, Arthur decided that it would be better to deliver the invitation in person. He wouldn’t be able to avoid Merlin for long anyway.

So he went to take the lift to go to Merlin’s floor and its doors opened to reveal a young man Arthur had never seen in the building. The bloke’s eyes widened when he saw Arthur, he looked at him up and down then snorted. He walked out of the elevator and stopped in front of Arthur, blocking his passage.

“Can I help you?”

The bloke shook his head eyeing Arthur with a funny expression. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Should I?”  Arthur asked, putting his hand on his hips, when the man just blinked at him Arthur sighed. “Look mate, I don’t have time for this,” he started, trying to bypass him but the man put a hand on Arthur’s chest to stop him.

“You’re going to see him, aren’t you,” at Arthur’s puzzled look he explained, “Merlin. You’re going to see, Merlin.”

“How do you – –”

“Tell him I’ll leave his stuff by the door,” he cut Arthur, dropping his hand and starting to walk away.

Lucky for Arthur the lift was already back and so he entered it. The strange meeting left him so confused he almost forgot to ask, “Wait, what? Who are you?”

The bloke turned to look at him, “Merlin’s fiancé,” he answered before the elevators’ doors shut on Arthur’s stunned face.

In all honest, Arthur had wasted a good part of his night thinking about the man, so much so that it was quite anticlimactic seeing him in person. Well, except for the fact that Merlin was engaged to an adolescent. _That_ was a surprise. Arthur was rather imagining some guy a bit more hulky and taller; someone resembling Percival or something.

Arthur didn’t knock on the door before opening it; he didn’t bother greeting Merlin either. “You know, I would never take you for a pedophile, Merlin.” And really, who was him to judge Uther now, for the lack of politeness.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve just met your infant fiancé, whose existence you have never mentioned, by the way.” Arthur made sure to sound as sullen as he felt and _almost_ regret it when Merlin looked at him with a pained expression.

“I just wanted to put some distance between the life I have with him and this,” he sounded miserable and quite frankly he didn’t look any better, Arthur guessed Merlin had probably just had a fight with his boyfriend.

Arthur clapped once, given Merlin a wry smile, “Congratulations then, you’ve made it! Found a distance so far you had to get yourself another boyfriend for your double life.” His last words made Merlin cringe for some reason, Arthur guessed they had hit home.

“You are not my boyfriend, Arthur.”

Arthur tried his best to pretend the words didn’t affect him. “No, you’re right, I’m not. I’m just the bloke you’ve been flirting with since the day you got here. Just the man you had sex with yesterday!”

He realised he was almost shouting when Merlin recoiled at the words, casting a mortified glance at the open door behind Arthur. He blushed, and Arthur didn’t have the guts to turn around and see who was watching their little show.

“Anyway, I don’t care. I just came to tell you Uther wants you at his birthday party tomorrow night,” he said, dropping the invitation at the desk.

Merlin took his time eying the card as if it were about to explode on his face, and Arthur made good use of his distraction, to take his leave. Thankfully whoever had made Merlin blush was not there anymore and he could walk away with his head high – not that Arthur would have done any different.

“Should I bring something,” Merlin called once Arthur was already out of the room. He didn’t turn around.

“A resignation letter would be nice,” Arthur muttered under his breath, low enough that he was sure Merlin didn’t catch; and he was thankful for it. It was too mean, and Arthur was not ready to not see Merlin ever again. So he just gave an indifferent shrug and answered, “Just yourself.”

* * *

 

Once Arthur was out of his line of sight, Merlin got up, closed the door and proceeded to rip the paper card into a tiny million pieces. He was not going to Uther’s fucking birthday party. The little stunt he had just pulled with Arthur had been Merlin’s desperate last minute attempt to make him stay a little longer.

Why? Because Merlin was clearly and idiot, that was why. And really, Mordred was right to call him selfish. Merlin didn’t want to lose Arthur any more than he wanted to lose Mordred. Merlin sighed, thinking about how close he was to lose them both.

He threw the pieces of paper on the trash and went back to his desk. Work was his best friend right now, and booting the computer up, Merlin saw that Gwen had emailed him back, so he put his mind to good use.

 

Merlin left the office earlier in order to pass by the flat and take some clothes and anything else he might need, while Mordred was still at work. And it seemed that Mordred had had the same idea, for when Merlin opened the door he almost fell face first on the floor because of a duffle bag standing in the way.

It stung. To look at the bag and realise that it was real, it was happening. It wasn’t just a bad dream; Mordred was really kicking him out. Merlin sat on the floor to check if everything he needed was inside the duffle bag. It was. He wanted to lay down right there and cry but he had a feeling that, if he did, he wouldn’t be able to get up.

So Merlin tried his best to put his shit together and left. He thought of leaving a note, but soon dismissed the idea; there wasn’t anything to be said, not right now anyway. He would give Mordred some time.

The next thing on Merlin’s list was to find a place to stay for a few days. The first person who came into his mind was Aunt Vivian. She was his best option, her house had more than enough space for him, and he could stay on his old bedroom.

Merlin called Morgana.

Vivian loved Mordred, and she would most definitely demand an explanation from Merlin. Not that Morgana wouldn’t do the same thing, but it was easier dealing with her than her mother. Merlin wasn’t ready to admit to Vivian how badly he had fucked up his _new beginning_. She would scowl him and make Merlin feel as if he were a child. Morgana would just tell him he was a bloody idiot. Merlin could handle that, it was old news for him.

“Hypothetically,” he began after she picked up, “let’s assume I cheated on Mordred.”

Morgana snorted loudly. “ _Hypothetically_ ,” she said in a sarcastic tone, “ _I hope Arthur Pendragon is worth it_.”

Merlin groaned in frustration. “You knew! How? And why didn’t you warn me?”

“ _Because I thought you knew better_ ,” she sounded more sympathetic but her words were still harsh. “ _And I didn’t think it was serious, Merlin. We all have crushes sometimes, you can’t help it. I just never thought you would act on it._ ”

“Me neither, ‘Gana,” Merlin moaned, resting his head on the steering wheel. “Can I come in?”

“ _Wait, you’re outside? What are you doing here, weirdo? And sure, come in, stalker.”_

Merlin hung up without replying. He took the lift to Morgana’s floor; she was waiting for him with her door open. Merlin stopped in front of her, slumping his shoulders and he dropped the duffle bag on the floor.

“Mordred kicked me out,” he finally answered.

Morgana had two responses for him, first she slapped the side of his head, calling him an idiot, and then she hugged him so tightly Merlin was afraid she would crack his ribs. “You can stay as long as you like,” Morgana announced once she let go of him. “But I want to know everything.”

Merlin couldn’t say he didn’t see that coming. “Fine,” he sighed, “let me just put some underwear first.”

 

Merlin told Morgana everything down to the moment he ripped Uther’s invitation to shreds after Arthur left his office that morning. He left out the part where Mordred had already packed his stuff once Merlin got to their flat, sharing that information somehow felt like saying that everything was over between them. It wasn’t. It shouldn’t be.

Morgana listened to his speech without making a single comment, only after he finished she asked, “Are you in love with him, Merlin?”

“I wish I had an answer for that myself,” Merlin replied, it was the best he could tell her.

And it seemed to satisfy her, for Morgana changed the subject then, “You should go to Uther’s birthday party.”

“Fuck no,” Merlin complained.

Morgana sighed, shaking her head she spoke with feigned disappointment, “Oh Merlin, twenty seven years and you’re still mistaking my _should_ s for advices, when they’re clearly orders.”

 “No way, no; you can’t make me, no,” Merlin said vehemently shaking his head with every no.

“My house, my rules. I will not let you stay here all by yourself to wallow in misery the whole night – and don’t give me that look, you know I don’t mean it like that – I’m going to the party, and if you don’t  want to tag along you can wait for me,” she pointed to the closed door, “in the hallway.”

“Oh, come on –” Merlin tried to protest but he already knew it was a lost cause, even so, he tried a little harder to have it his way, which proceeded to a minor discussion and a totally not empty threat from Morgana involving her boyfriend and Merlin had no other option than to oblige.

 “Now, enough about you,” Morgana said once they had settled an agreement, “let me tell you all about my sex life.”

Merlin was on his feet the next second. “Thank you, this was great and all, but I’ll sleep on the street.”

“Wait,” Morgana laughed at his uncomfortable expression, “I meant _love_ , let’s talk about my love life, Merlin. Can’t you see how happy I am?” And indeed, now that Merlin stopped to take a real look at Morgana he could definitely see. She was radiant.

 

For all her talk about leaving Merlin alone, Morgana ended up not having another choice tonight, she had weird work schedules, which Merlin never really understood, and so she had to leave him to go to some dinner-meeting. And with nothing better to do, Merlin ended up on her sofa with a bowl of popcorn and the whole of the Stark House (all alive and well) as he set to watch the first season of Game of Thrones. He was two episodes in when –

_Arthur was fighting someone, several someones. There were people all around him and they were closing up on him, blocking him between a rock and their swords and shields. Swords and shields? Yeah, Arthur was a knight, he was wearing chain mail, and he overcame the other men with his own sword. But he had no shield. It made Merlin at the same time annoyed and afraid. How was that thick headed toad going to protect himself without a shield?_

_Arthur was smarter than the other knights though, and after a moment they were all down. And Arthur turned his back to the battle; he was looking up, searching for Merlin. He smiled to Merlin when their gazes found each other. Merlin smiled back._

_And that was when he saw the shadow behind Arthur._

_He tried to scream but his voice wouldn’t come, he began to wave his arms frenetically, signing for Arthur to turn around, but he just kept smiling and then it was too late. Arthur finally turned around, but as soon as he did, the tip of a blade came out of his back, it was out in a second but then Arthur was on his knees. And above him, raising his bloodied sword for the final blow was Mordred._

Merlin woke up screaming and covered in cold sweat. He was shaking badly. On the telly Ned Stark was about to kill one of the dire wolves, Merlin reached for the remote and quickly turned the television off. That was enough killing for the night. He just hoped it would be nothing but dreams and fiction.


	9. Chapter 9

Morgause had hired special staff just for the night. Nevertheless, Agravaine had made his personal mission to make sure that she always had a full glass on her hands. Not that Morgause could afford to drink without care at her own party, it would be extremely rude, especially to Uther; but be that as it may, every time her son came with another glass she would make sure he knew how much she appreciated. Although, maybe not as much as the drunk fish in the small pond in front of the house where Morgause had been throwing her drinks, once they warmed up on her hands.

She considered asking Agravaine to stop, but he looked so pleased with his task that Morgause could not bring herself to do it. How could she deny him the pleasure of serving her, especially when it seemed to be the only thing which made him happy?

Agravaine had just brought her yet another glass of champagne when Morgause noticed that more guests had arrived. She was about to put on a welcoming smile on her face to go and greet them, and then she saw who they were.

“Christ, he’s everywhere now! It’s like a plague,” she complained as Emrys and Vivian LeFay’s daughter crossed the front yard. "What is he doing here?” she hissed.

“Uncle Uther invited him,” Agravaine explained. “I saw him give the invitation to Arthur.”

She frowned at him, “To Arthur?” He nodded and she scoffed. “He hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to him.”

Agravaine looked at her with a puzzled look. “I don’t follow, which one of them hasn’t work the courage, Emrys or Uncle Uther?”

Morgause suppressed a sigh, “Neither of them, apparently.” Dropping the subject, Morgause studied Morgana LeFay from afar; there was no denying the girl’s beauty, with her green eyes and the dark long hair framing her porcelain skin. Morgause suddenly felt old. She blamed Vivian’s little spawn for it. “Tell me, do you find her beautiful?” she asked without taking her eyes off Morgana.

“Of course,” Agravaine scoffed, way too quickly for her liking. Morgause turned to glare at her son, which made him blush. “Uh –oh,” he stammered, “I’m mean, not as beautiful as you, mother.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop wasting my time with this,” she snapped returning the untouched champagne to him, Morgause was done caring for his feelings tonight. “You want to make yourself useful, find me a way to get Emrys out of our lives.”

She left Agravaine gapping after her like a fish out of water and went to great her new guests.

* * *

 

Merlin did not wanted to go to Uther’s birthday party, but since he was living under the same roof as Morgana, and since said roof belong to her she practically blackmailed him into joining her and Vivian, by promising that otherwise she would lock him out of her flat until she came back. And by the way, she was going to spend the night at Gawain’s. So there was nothing Merlin could do but to indulge her.

When they arrived at the mansion Morgana immediately spotted her boyfriend and left Merlin completely alone in the front yard. He was still working up the courage to get inside – Merlin was sure he was going to bump into Arthur, or worse, Uther, the minute he set a foot in the place – when a female voice called his name from behind him.

“Morgause,” Merlin acknowledged her in the most bored tone he could muster.  

“Tell me, Merlin. Do you have any idea where you are standing?” Morgause smirked at him, but unlucky for her, Merlin knew she would be here today and that at least a minimum of interaction between them would be require for the sake of civility, so he took his anti-bitchism vaccines before leaving home.

“The ground?” he asked with an unimpressed shrug. Her smirk didn’t fade so he tried again, “Uther’s expensive linoleum?”

“This is my home, if you must know.” Morgause had the kindness of sharing the unrequested information. Merlin assumed she had something big up her sleeve, for the way she kept looking at him. He tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever she was going to say next. That woman would not have the pleasure of breaking him again. “And you _must_ know, this,” she continued, spreading her arms to compass the whole of the mansion, “is the De Bois House, the place where your parents spent the last hours of their lives.”

For her upmost disappointment Merlin did not lose his ground this time, he kept his poker face and asked, “So, if this is your house then,” he leaned closer to her as if to tell a secret and continued in a stage whisper, “should I be worried about food poisoning?”

Morgause opened her mouth to reply but they were interrupted by another female voice coming from behind them, a friendly one this time. Merlin smiled.

“Isn’t a little early in the evening to start scaring off the guests, Morgause?” Vivian asked as she approached them. “Or have the years already begun to demand you to cut your night shorts?”

Merlin had to cover his mouth and pretend to cough to hide a snicker, but he soon noticed that neither of the women was paying attention to him.

Morgause scoffed, “On the contrary, Vivian. Much like myself, the night is still quite young.” She ignored Vivian’s scornful snort as she explained, “And as a good host it is expected of me to personally welcome all my guests. For instance, I was telling Merlin about the history of the house. There are some parts that I’m sure are of his interest.” She looked at him with a quirked eyebrow – and honestly, Merlin had to roll his eyes at that – and then she turned back to Vivian, “As for you, _dear_ , may I offer you something to drink or are you well served with your own… potions.”

It was Vivian’s time to scoff, and Merlin knew that was a sign of her losing patience. “I’m not the witch here, Morgause. And I’m pretty sure Merlin couldn’t care less about your Satis House, so stop harassing my nephew and go _personally welcome_ someone else.”

Morgause was furious, her face was red with rage but it was clear she didn’t want to cause a scene in front of her entire family, since her sons and husband were all gathered in a circle not far from them.  So she simply left not saying another word, but with her head held high.

Merlin watched her until she disappeared inside the house, and then he turned to Aunt Vivian. The two of them stared at each other for a second before they both broke down laughing.

 

Since Morgause had restrained the guests' free space to the living and the dining room, there wasn’t much Merlin could do to avoid Arthur and his father. So he accepted his fate; which did not mean he had to endure it sober. He hopped Morgause had enough alcohol to help him through the night.

Throughout the night Uther made about six or seven attempts of starting a conversation with Merlin, but every single time Merlin was saved by a differed member of the Pendragon clan. Even Morgause proved to be helpful in this account. All except Arthur, who seemed to be doing a better job than Merlin at pretending he wasn’t there. And Arthur took his time to talk with everyone else, he chatted with Gawain and Morgana and then with his other cousins, he talked with his father and Lot, but mostly he devoted his attention to Vivian.

The only people Arthur didn’t talk to were Merlin, for obvious reasons, and Morgause, though that might have been because she was busy making sure everything was in order. Or maybe he didn’t like her either. But that was none of Merlin’s business and he had already spent a far too much time thinking about Arthur, so he decided to focus completely on his date for the night, champagne.

After dinner it seemed like each family member had a speech prepared to celebrate Uther’s sixtieth bloody year on this Earth, so they all had to remain at the table and listen to how great Uther Pendragon was. Merlin felt sick, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could blame it all on the champagne. But be that as it may, after the last discourse – Arthur’s, of course –, Merlin’s drunken mind decided it was the perfect moment to get back at Uther, and he knew exactly what to do.

“A moment of yo-ur,” he hiccupped as he got off the chair, swaying a little he place a hand on the table to steady himself and used the other to raise his glass. “Attention, please.”

“Merlin, what are you doing?” Morgana hissed in a whisper; she tried to pull him back to the chair but he swerved from her hand.

“Leave me alone, ‘Gana,” he sputtered. “Everyone had their chance to speak, now is my turn.” Merlin turned his gaze back to the table and realised they were all staring at him in silence; he hated himself for it but Merlin only started to speak once he saw Uther mouthing a _go on_ to him. Merlin took another sip of liquid courage and began his toast.

“To Uther,” the man had his eyes locked on Merlin and gave him a short nod. Merlin continued, “The man who has it all.” The words brought a bitter taste to his mouth. “What can we possibly offer to man who has it all?”

“Merlin, please,” he heard Vivian begged in a whisper but he ignored her.

“Well, I have something for you, Uther. And it’s funny because, whereas you took two relatives from me – –”

“ _Merlin_!” Vivian pleaded again, urging him to stop. She knew where that was going, and a part of Merlin wanted to stop for her sake but a bigger part of him was enjoying seeing Uther fidget in his chair, visibly uncomfortable.

“Whereas _you_ took two relatives from me,” Merlin repeated, this time no one interrupted him. “I have one to give you.” Uther narrowed his eyes, glancing from Merlin to Vivian and back. Merlin could not look at her now, he knew she was crying and he was about to break her heart. He swallowed hard. “Happy birthday, Pendragon, I present you with a daughter. Morgana is your child.”

Merlin excused himself from the table and walked away pretending he didn’t hear the sob that had escaped Vivian’s lips. He wasn’t fast enough though, and Morgana caught up with him. She grabbed his arm with enough strength to bruise, digging her long fingernails on his skin, and forced Merlin to stop and turn around.

One look at her was all it took for Merlin to regret everything he had said. Morgana looked devastated, her hair was out of place from running and the tears had ruined her make-up, but that was just the surface, what really struck Merlin was the furious look on her face, the hurt and anger on her red rimmed eyes. He had never seen that expression on her face. And it pained him to know he had been the one to put it there.

“You don’t get to walk away from this,” she growled before letting go of Merlin’s arm as if she couldn’t stand to even touch him anymore. “You’ve humiliated my mother and I in front of all these people!” Morgana shouted. “How could you do this to us? I thought you were my best friend.”

“Morgana, you have to know I never meant to hurt you,” he pleaded, reaching for her, desperate for her to believe him.

“You did a fucking awful job then, Merlin,” she shook her head, stepping away from him. She ran the back of her hands over her eyes and sniffed. “I want to out of my place,” Morgana announced before turning back to the dining room.

No one else went after him but Merlin was sure they had all listened to the sound his last relationship shattering. It was official; Merlin had managed to piss off everyone he loved.

* * *

 

Like everyone else on the table, besides Morgana, Arthur was too stunned to do anything but stare at Vivian as she quietly cried and Uther’s shocked expression. Morgause was the one to break the silence with a loud sigh.

“Oh, dear! Shall I order some tea?”

Uther didn’t paid her any mind though, no one did except for Lot and Agravaine.  Arthur saw Gaheris trying to explain the situation for his wife in a tone that wasn’t as low as he thought; Arthur glared at him, creasing his brow until his cousin got the message and shut his gob. 

“Excuse me,” Vivian said in a shaky voice, getting up.

“Vivian.”

Arthur had never seen his father look so lost before, not even when Igraine died. Thinking about his mother made Arthur also think about how – if what Merlin said was truth – Uther had cheated on her while she was pregnant with Arthur. Suddenly he didn’t feel very sympathetic toward his father.

Vivian had stopped when Uther called her, and they were locked in an intense stare match until Morgana returned to the room.

“I want to hear it from you,” she demanded, pointing a finger at her mother as she stormed back in. “I want you to tell me that Merlin was wrong,” Morgana’s voice cracked with a sob on the last word.

“I – sweetheart,” Vivian stuttered, she reached a hand for Morgana, but Morgana just shook her head, taking a step back. “Morgana, please hear me.”

“No,” she shouted, “not unless you’re going to say Merlin lied.”

Arthur looked around to see that the Orkneys had stopped everything to stare at mother and daughter, like they were watching some shite reality show. Gawain was the only one demonstrating something other than curiosity, Arthur could almost see the internal struggle going on inside his mind, considering if he should go help Morgana or keep out of her family business.

As for Arthur’s father, he seemed to have found something to say at last. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere else,” he said, glancing from Vivian to Morgana.

“Bugger off, I don’t have anything to discuss with you, you are _not_ my father. My father was Gorlois Le Fay, he _raised_ me, he _loved_ me, and –” She stopped abruptly to take a deep breath and wipe the tears from her face. “I _have_ a father, he’s dead, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have one. And you are not him.”

“Let’s not discuss this in front of this people,” Vivian suggested, she seemed to have calmed herself more now; she wasn’t crying anymore. “We should leave.” It was clear to Arthur that ‘we’ included Uther, and that was all the admission he needed to know that Merlin was telling the truth.

“You are free to use the office or the library, if you wish,” Morgause broke the silence at the table.

“Thank you, Morgause, but I cannot stand to stay another minute in this house,” Vivian retorted without looking at Morgause. She made a motion and Uther got on his feet to follow her out. Morgana didn’t move.

“I can’t do this now,” she said, pressing a hand to her stomach as if she was about to be sick. It was Gawain’s cue to go and help her. “Take me out of here,” Morgana asked him in a quiet tone. No one went after them, and a minute later Uther left with Vivian.

Once they were gone Lot giggled, “Blimey, what a night!”

At the same time Morgause scoffed and then asked, “More wine, anyone? Arthur?”

Arthur threw his napkin on his used plate, pushing the chair back with a screech to get up. His cousins winced at the sound; Morgause shot him a murderous look. “Sorry, I’m afraid I’m fed up already,” he said deadpan before leaving the dining room.

* * *

 

Merlin’s head was spinning. He found a bench on the garden beside the house and sat there to wait for his taxi. The cabbie was the only number Merlin had and he had said he was going to take a while to get to him. Merlin didn’t complain; he had no idea where he was going anyway.

He closed his eyes for a moment – or maybe several – and when he opened them again Arthur was sitting next to him.

Merlin snorted, “This night can’t get any worse, can it?”

“You tell me, Merlin. You are the one making all these messes,” Arthur tone was playful but Merlin could see he meant what he said.

Merlin rubbed his hands on his face and groaned. “All my life I’ve painted Uther Pendragon as the devil and now I’m the evil one,” he sighed. “Your family hates me, _my_ family hates me. And I was under the impression you did too, so… What are you doing here?”

Arthur shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“My words don’t affect you? You’re immune to me or something?”

Arthur gave a bitter laugh before answering, “Believe me, Merlin. I’m the last person on this Earth that’s immune to you.”

“So why?” he asked miserable.

 “You wanted to hurt my father,” Arthur said, glancing at him with a meaningful look, “but I think you’re the one who’s been bleeding all along.”

Merlin sniffed, he had been crying for a while but he only noticed now. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. Arthur had no idea how right he was. A dry laugh then escaped Merlin’s lips.

“What?” Arthur asked

“You know, after everything that happened between us I was sleeping at Morgana’s.” Merlin threw his head back and closed his eyes. “I’m no longer welcome, at least not tonight.” He slid his body down the bench to rest his head on its back. The chilly night air wasn’t doing shit to sober Merlin up; all he wanted was to plant himself face down on a warm bed. “I’m fucking homeless.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen Merlin,” Arthur said nudging his shoulder. “You can stay with me.” Merlin opened his eyes then, to glare at him. “I don’t mean like that. I’m offering you a place to spend the night. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Merlin snorted, “Don’t patronize me, Pendragon.”

“I’m the only person who’s not mad at you right now, _Mer_ lin. Try not to change that.” It was an empty threat and Merlin knew it. He wanted to ask why Arthur was not mad at him, even though he had all the right to be, but Merlin was too scared of the answer. He was afraid that he would look in Arthur's eyes and see pity on them.

“It wasn’t self-harm,” he said in a low voice after a moment. Siting up straight, Merlin folded a leg under the other and shifted on the bench to face Arthur. He had to be sure Arthur wasn’t doing this out of pity so he decided to tell him what he didn’t have the courage to say when they first had that conversation.

Merlin removed the bracelet and stretched his left arm to Arthur, putting his wrist on display. Although the faint line had been since long committed to Merlin’s memory – he knew exactly where it was – there was just about enough light in the garden for Arthur to see it. He took hold of Merlin’s pulse and gently ran his thumb over the scar.

“I didn’t want to hurt myself,” he explained in a whispered, for he couldn’t make his voice any louder even if he wanted to. “I wanted to die.” Merlin squeezed his eyes shut again and a new set of warm tears ran down his face. He was terrified to look Arthur in that moment. Even now, years later, admitting it to anyone was hard.

Merlin felt one of Arthur’s hands on his face, wiping the tears away, as the other kept holding his hand with Arthur still rubbing small circles over Merlin’s pulse point. “How old were you?”

 “Sixteen,” Merlin answered opening his eyes but he still couldn’t face Arthur so he stared at their hands, the alcohol in his system mixed with the tears on his eyes made it difficult to focus on them. “I was all alone, far from home and any one that cared about me. Lance was already off to uni and I had lost my only true friend in that school to a fucking robbery.” Merlin felt a pang in his heart, he hadn’t thought about Will in such a long time. “I started to have this obsessive ideas, I mean, I’ve always had them, at the back of my head, they were always there, from as long as I can remember. But I never really paid them any mind… and then they were all I could think about.”

“Your parents,” Arthur guessed.

Merlin nodded, “I blamed myself for their deaths,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “And then all that shit with Will happened… I think I was never good at coping with death. I didn’t know how to deal with his and it made me think about mom and dad. I had no one to talk to and I kept piling up those feelings.” Merlin stopped to take a deep breath before adding, “I hit rock bottom.

“There are many different kinds of depression. Mine was a silent monster. I didn't go around crying around corners, Arthur. I was tormented by nightmares and thoughts of people I love dying in front of me. It overwhelmed me to the point where I only saw one way out.” Merlin cleared his throat, embarrassed.

 _Way out_ was such an understatement, but there was no need for Arthur to know about the gory details of how Merlin’s blood stained the white tiles of his bathroom or how the boy who found him had slipped on it, as he hushed out to get help. He skipped that part, because the mere thought of it caused bile to rise up to his throat.

“It was only after I woke up in the hospital that I discover about you father.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was driving the car. Vivian wanted to spare me as much as she could; she never told me Uther was there that night. You know, it was part of my therapy to work on this guilt I felt,” Merlin sighed. “But instead of _working it_ I transferred it… to him.”

“What you did today, that was your revenge?” Arthur didn’t sound angry which was relief to Merlin. 

“I guess.”  Out of the corner of his eye Merlin saw the taxi stopping in front of the main gates and got off the bench. "Thank you Arthur.”

Arthur frowned at him, “For what?”

Merlin smiled sadly, “Everything.”

Arthur nodded and then grabbed Merlin’s right hand, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Outside the gates the cabbie honked twice and Merlin waved for him to wait, before turning back to Arthur, who was giving him anxious looks. “I’m too drunk for that kind of stupidity, don’t worry.”  His words managed to take a smile from Arthur, which Merlin was able to return with no effort.

“Where will be sleeping tonight?” Arthur asked letting go of his arm.

“Sadly,” Merlin began in a grave tone, and then pointed at Arthur, “but wisely… not with you.” Arthur threw his head back and full body laughed at him, as Merlin tried to curtsy and almost fell on his arse. “Night, Arthur,” he said, starting to walk away.

“Good night, Merlin. Take care of yourself,” Arthur called from behind him.

Once Merlin got to the car he asked the cabbie to take him to any hotel in the downtown area.


	10. Chapter 10

Mother was furious. After all the guests had left the De Bois house she threw all of the china on the wall. It almost hit Gaheris’ wife and he used that as an excuse to leave as well. Gareth was going to spend the night, but he too retired for his old room the moment Mother threw the first glass.

When father tried to calm her, she threatened him with a knife. He didn’t argue much after that. Agravaine had been the only one to stay with her until she calmed herself. As always. Even if he didn’t exactly understand what she was so mad about. Surely, Emrys had ruined her party, but he had waited until the end of the dinner to open his mouth; so technically everything had gone according to Mother’s plans. He knew that because he had helped her with all of it.

No one was more dedicated to Morgause than Agravaine. And that was the reason for him to be here tonight. He had spent the entire day after the party trying to come up with something that would please Mother. She had been in a terrible mood since the previous night, and nothing he said or did had worked to take her out of it. But after scrambling his brain for two day Agravaine finally knew what he had to. He was going to get rid of Emrys once and for all, for Mother.

It was easy to obtain his address with the girl in human resources (though that seemed to be the only information they had on Merlin), and then all Agravaine had to do was wait until the end of the day. He left _Pendragon_ before Emrys as he did every day, not to arouse suspicion. The only problem Agravaine had encounter was that he had not been able to get hold of a gun from external sources, so he had to use the one Lot kept locked on the study. It wasn’t ideal, Agravaine knew that, but it was such an old piece he doubted it was even registered.

He had dressed in a black jumper and a grey cap to cover his face. Initially he had thought about just pulling up the hood of the jumper, but he discarded the idea thinking that it might draw too much attention. So he picked a random cap at a store close to Emrys’ building, and then, as a second thought, stopped at the flower shop beside the store and bought a huge bouquet. All paid with cash, of course. He couldn’t leave any tracks to be followed.

The doorman was another problem Agravaine hadn’t expected to have. The man was reluctant in letting him up. In the end Agravaine gave up trying to persuade him and pushed fifty pounds in the man’s direction.

“I must insist, sir. This is very important, it’s for Mr. Emrys,” he said as the man stared at the money for a few seconds before taking it and smiling up to Agravaine.

“Oh, from Mr. Emrys, you mean,” he corrected for some reason Agravaine didn’t understand, and certainly didn’t care to know. “I bet he will like those,” he concluded pointing a finger up.

“I’m sure he will,” Agravaine smirked before taking the elevator to Merlin’s floor. As the doors were closing, he saw the man taking the telephone off the hook, and so Agravaine put a hand on each side of the lift to hold its doors open. “Oh, and sir,” he called and the man stopped with the phone half way to his face to look up at Agravaine. “Let’s keep it a surprise, shall we?” The man shrugged putting the phone down. Only then Agravaine let the doors close. He fished a pair of plastic gloves from his pocket and put them on.

The doorman had also given the number of Emrys’ apartment so it wasn’t difficult to find it. It was also surprisingly easy to open the door. Agravaine smiled proudly when the lock gave in on his third try.

The flat was dark when he entered it. He almost felt disappointed, thinking that Emrys might not be home, but once he decided to explore the place a little more he discovered the sleeping form with its back turned to the door, on the bed of the place’s only bedroom. Weird. Why would Emrys go to bed so early? Was he sick or something? Maybe he was still hangover from Uncle Uther’s birthday.

Agravaine shook his head. It didn’t matter. He had to get out of there quickly, before the doorman began to wonder why he was taking so long. He took the gun from where he had hid it in the small of his back and pointed to the back of Emrys’ head. He stirred a little when Agravaine took the safety off, and Agravaine experienced a moment of panic.

He approached the bed very carefully; he had to get close for he hadn’t found a silencer so he was going to need a pillow to muffle the sound. Then Agravaine didn’t waste another minute. He took the pillow next to Emrys and put it over his head. He woke up then, but didn’t have time to struggle. Agravaine put two bullets on his brain before he could make a sound.

The doorman wasn’t at his desk when Agravaine left the building. He thanked his lucky star for it.

* * *

 

Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about everything Merlin said at Uther’s birthday, from his revelation about Morgana to his admitting that he had tried to kill himself. About the last part, Arthur wanted nothing more than to hug Merlin real tight and never let him go. Arthur couldn’t imagine the pain Merlin had endured, so much so that he couldn’t bear to live anymore. He wished he could take Merlin’s suffering away.

But that was out of Arthur’s hands.

So he gave Merlin space to deal with his demons and focus on the other subject nagging on his mind: Morgana. It was hard to believe that, out of the sudden, Arthur had a sister. In all honest, he had never even thought about having a sibling. And now there he was, at Morgana’s door, hoping that she would talk to him.

Even if Arthur had believed Merlin, he still needed confirmation from his father, and after Uther’s reluctant admission, Arthur called Gawain to ask for Morgana’s address.

At first, Arthur was afraid she wouldn’t receive him, but after some minutes the lady at the front desk told him he could take the lift to Morgana’s floor. She was waiting for him with her door open.

“Gawain told me you were coming,” she said, stepping aside to let Arthur in. She didn’t sound bitter – which he had expected her to – but that was soon explained when Morgana continued. “I haven’t talked to Merlin since that day.” Morgana sat on the sofa and gestured for Arthur to take the armchair beside it. “I don’t think I can help you with him, not right now.”

“Er – I’m not here to talk about Merlin.” Arthur began to twist the ring he used in his right thumb.

Morgana stood up and started to walk towards the door. “If this is about Uther, you can go back and tell him I don’t want to hear anything he has to say.”

“He didn’t send me,” Arthur tried to assure her, turning his body on the armchair to look at her but not moving out of it; she just looked at him unimpressed, crossing her arms. “I swear,” he sighed frustrated, running a hand through his hair. “ _I_ want to talk to you.”

Morgana uncrossed her arms to place them at her hips; she looked at Arthur through narrowed eyes. “Why?”

 _Good point_ , he thought. Arthur hadn’t really thought about what they should talk about, but he did have a strong feeling that the two of them ought to have a conversation and he said so to Morgana. “They lied to both of us. My mother, your father – as far as we know they died not knowing this.” Arthur had to stop when he felt a lump in his throat. “And if they did… they probably felt the same thing we’re feeling right now.”

He saw her shoulders dropping as she inhaled deeply and looked away from him. “Do you think they knew?” she asked in whisper.

“I hope not,” Arthur replied honestly. He rather his mother died with only happy memories from his father and him. “How do you think Merlin found out?”

A weird sound – something between a snort and a sniff – came from Morgana; she glanced at Arthur again with a wet smile. “He was a quiet child; they probably talked right in front of him not noticing he was there.”

Arthur smiled imagine a little Merlin with his big ears and wide eyes, hiding behind a curtain or something, listening to the grown-ups talk. “Do you hate him?”

“I’m angry at him,” Morgana explained as she walked back to him and sat on the arm of the sofa. “He should have talked to me before making a scene.”

Arthur was about to ask her if she knew why Merlin had done it, but he realised it would be a stupid question. Of course she knew, it was probably the reason she didn’t seemed to like Uther very much.

Morgana confirmed his suspicious when he inquired her. “I grew up seeing what your father –” she paused and shook her head, and then corrected herself. “This _image_ of what your father had done to Merlin. And now he says this man is my father. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about this.”

“He is not a bad person,” Arthur tried to defend Uther. He had to.

“He is not my father,” Morgana retorted in a flat tone. “I don’t care what genetics says.”

“And you don’t want anything to do with him?” Arthur asked and she nodded. “What about me?”

She stared at him for a long moment. Arthur held her gaze, even though her silence was starting to make him nervous. “We have known each other for a few years,” Morgana broke the silence to say something he already knew, but he waited patiently to see where she was going with that. “I never had a problem with you,” she shrugged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur questioned once it was clear Morgana wouldn’t say anything else.

“It means we are friends, Arthur. Or at least we can be, if you want,” she suggested with another shrug. Arthur supposed she was trying to show indifference to hide her vulnerability, though the way she was hugging herself now was telling a different story.

“Yeah,” he answered and then something came to his mind which made him laugh “At least we are not related through my mother’s side.” Morgana frowned at him and Arthur explained. “It would be rather awkward,” he made a gesture with his hands, “with Gawain and all.”

Morgana opened her mouth and then laughed too, clapping her hands. “Dear God, imagine that! We would have two-headed dragon babies as offspring.”

And yes, Arthur knew one shouldn’t talk shite about one’s family, but he was making progress with his own sibling, so Gawain would have to forgive him for what he was about to say next. “I wouldn’t go discarding that option just yet,” Arthur smirked at her. “Have you seen the other Orkneys? I’d stay with the dragons.”

Giggling Morgana agreed with him, while she wiped tears of laughter from her eyes; and Arthur joined her. They were both quiet for some time after their laughs died down.

Arthur glanced at her through his lashes. “Sister,” he tried the word, in a tone that was almost – but not quite – a question, with a shy smile.

“It might be a little too early for that,” Morgana told him in a way which made clear that she was not completely discarding the possibility; and Arthur nodded at her in agreement.

“Of course,” Arthur gestured to her with a hand, “you have a brother already, right,” he remembered.

‘More like two,” she explained, “with Merlin, I mean. Lance is way older than us, so we actually spent a lot more time together than me and Lance. He is good brother, though.”

Arthur acknowledged that with a short nod. Merlin had also spoken about Lancelot with a great deal of admiration. Arthur felt like he ought to meet the man as soon as he could, he told that to Morgana and she seemed to like the idea.

“They live in Wales,” she informed him, “Gwen is the only head of the Welsh lab now that Merlin is no longer at _Avalon_ ,” Morgana rolled her eyes, “not physically, anyway.” There was no need to ask what she meant; Merlin had yet to provide any documentation to become and official employee of _Pendragon_. Arthur kept forgetting to ask him about that. “So it might take a while for her to have a break to come to Camelot, and Lance usually prefers to wait so that they can take holidays together. But don’t worry,” Morgana added, “He comes to see our mother a lot more often than he goes to visit his father.”

Instead of indulging his curiosity about Lancelot’s father Arthur chose to use that as a cue to ask about his. “Uh –” he hesitated not knowing how to approach the subject without irritating Morgana. “What are you going to do about Uther?”

She sighed deeply, suddenly looking very tired. “Like I told you, I’m not interested in a father. But perhaps – in the future – we could… talk.” Morgana didn’t seem so sure about that, she sounded almost as if she was asking a question.

“If it helps, when you’re ready, I’ll be there with you,” Arthur offered, “if you want.”

“I’d appreciated that,” she said with a shy smile, running a hand through her long dark hair to tuck it behind her ear.

They didn’t hug when Arthur left, he thought it would be pushing up his luck a little, besides Morgana never stuck him as the hugging type, not that Arthur was either, but he always thought siblings were supposed to do that sort of thing. Still, Arthur left Morgana’s flat with a good feeling and a promise that she would call him soon to schedule a coffee or something.

Arthur texted Elena to tell her the news, she replied with a smiley followed by a question mark and he realised she didn’t know about Morgana being his sister. So instead of texting back Arthur pressed the call button.

* * *

 

Merlin needed more clothes. He realised this once he was fully recovered from the hangover, which took a lot more time than Merlin cared to admit. He was stinking badly when he had finally managed to drag himself out of the hotel bed, and it was only after he got to the bathroom that Merlin saw the evidences he had already been there. Also, his drunk-self had shit aim.

It was all Merlin could do not to get sick again. He only felt reasonably human again after the long shower he took. Merlin had to bribe the pageboy to go to the nearest clothing store and buy him something. He was pleasantly surprised when the boy returned with an outfit Merlin himself would have chosen.

He couldn’t keep that situation for longer though. Merlin desperately wanted to go home but he was well aware Mordred wouldn’t accept him back just yet. However, Morgana’s name was fresher in Merlin’s list of people whose hearts he had broken, so he couldn’t possibly even consider calling her about his stuff at her place. Mordred was a safer choice. And maybe, just maybe, they could even try to have a conversation about their relationship, though Merlin wasn’t going to hold his breath for it.

 

It turned out not holding his breath was Merlin’s best decision, for Mordred was not even answering his calls. But after being ignore a whole day Merlin said fuck it and decide to go get his things, Mordred being there or not.

Of course the skies of Camelot chose that moment to fall on him. The walk from the car to the building was enough for the rain to completely soak his clothes but at least this time Merlin had plenty of spares waiting for his at the flat.

He was received by Ernie, the nightshift doorman, who greeted Merlin with a welcoming smile. “Good evening, Mr. Emrys!”

“Evening, Ernie,” Merlin replied with a grin, pushing back his wet hair out of his face. “You know if Mordred’s home?”

“Oh, I haven’t seen Mr. Edling today.” Ernie gave him an apologetic look, probably feeling bad because of the state of Merlin’s clothing. “But that doesn’t mean much, since my shift started only forty minutes ago” he quickly added, shaking his hands like he was afraid Merlin would give up and leave. “He might be home already or not there yet. Do you want me to ring him?” Ernie asked, reaching for the interphone but Merlin gently dismissed him.

“I’ll just go and see for myself,” he said as he headed to the lift.

“You’re back then, Mr. Emrys? I take he liked the flowers,” Ernie called from behind him and Merlin turned to look at the old man with a frown.

“What flowers?”

Ernie frowned back at him. “The ones you sent him,” he answered, making gestures with his hands to symbolise something big and round. “Nice big bouquet came yesterday. The delivery lad said they were from you.”

“Must be a mistake,” Merlin shook his head. “Are you sure he said they were for Mordred?”

“He actually said they _for_ you, but I thought he meant _from_ you, since you weren’t here.” Ernie was a good man, but he was nosy as fuck. Merlin hadn’t been gone for that long and yet the man made it clear that he knew Mordred and Merlin had had a fight.

Suddenly Merlin felt too tired to satisfy Ernie’s curiosity. “I’ll see that for myself,” he said with a shrug and turned his back to the man before he could ask any more questions.

 

The smell hit Merlin like a punch when he opened the door. Mordred wasn’t there. The lights were off and it seemed like something had died at their flat. For how long he had been gone Merlin could only guess, though the flowers Ernie had talked about were there on the table next to the door. So Mordred wasn’t out for so long, which didn’t explain why the flat was stinking that bad.

Merlin glanced at the flowers with mild interest; there was no card though Mordred could have already taken it if there had been any. Merlin wondered why he kept it (with not much interest, sure, for he didn’t even put them on water), since Mordred was allergic to pretty much every flower on the arrange. Merlin assumed it was because Mordred had thought they were from him. But he put all those questions aside in order to find the source of the smell.

It wasn’t the kitchen, like he had first suspected, or the bathroom. Well, at least not the common one, so Merlin concluded the smell was probably coming from the bathroom on their bedroom, maybe a problem with the toilet, he supposed. And then all of Merlin’s speculations were proven wrong when he got to the room.

He stopped at the threshold. The smell was so strong he had to cover his nose, but that was more an instinct than a planned action. The first thing Merlin did actually register was the noise made by the flies. There were so many of them. How did they even get there? The flat was closed, all the windows were shut. What were they doing there anyway?

The answer lay in the bed. Inside his ribcage Merlin’s heart began to pound frenetically. There was something on the bad, it was covered by a banquet and a pillow. It seemed to be what had attracted the flies. And it wasn’t moving.

Fear grew tall and cold inside Merlin as he took one small step inside, and reached blindly for the light switch with unsteady fingers. The light scattered the flies around the bedroom, and it cause the opposite reaction on Merlin. He was stuck to the floor and his eyes were fixed on the corpse lying on his bed.

“Please, no,” Merlin begged in a shaky whisper, he had no idea to whom, but he repeated almost in a mantra as began to move slowly towards the bed. “Please, please,” Merlin continued, he reached for the blood stained pillow and hesitated for a moment, before pulling it up.

Merlin felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs but it was only for a moment, for in the second he was hyperventilating and had to quickly turn his head from what had once been Mordred’s face to empty his stomach on the floor next to the nightstand. His vision began to blur and Merlin was afraid he was going to pass out but when he opened his mouth again to retch and all that came out was a sob he realised that it were the tears that were impairing his sight.

He turned to look at Mordred again. It was a mistake. Without the pillow to keep them out, the flies were starting to hover over his face. When the first one settled between Mordred’s parted lips Merlin turned back to run from there, but his legs were like jelly and he slipped on his vomit, he had to hold on the nightstand not to fall. As soon as he had both his feet in place Merlin was running; running from the bedroom, running from the flat and mostly, running from the images of all the blood and the disfigured face of his dead boyfriend.

Merlin rushed Ernie to call the police and an ambulance, even though he knew the last one wouldn’t be of much use. And as for himself, Merlin made only one phone call.

 


	11. Chapter 11

It took some time for Arthur to find Merlin’s building, only after they had hung up he realised Merlin hadn’t actually given him an address. He had to call Gawain and ask him to ask Morgana for it, and only then Arthur realised he could have called her himself. He had been in such hurry to get to Merlin that it had escaped his notice he actually had Morgana’s number.  

The rain had already stopped when Arthur finally got there; a couple of police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of the building. He spotted Merlin behind the ambulance; sitting on the kerb, wrapped inside an orange blanket one of the paramedics must have given to him. As Arthur approached him he noticed Merlin was slowly rocking himself back and forth. He didn’t look up but for the slight shift on his body Arthur knew his presence had been noticed.

Arthur sat down next to him, ignoring the cold and damp pavement as wetness slipped into his jeans.

“I should have let him go,” Merlin said once Arthur was settled. He sounded calmer than Arthur would have expected. It wasn’t a good sign. “He wanted to, I told him to stay. If I had let him go, he wouldn’t be here, he wouldn’t be – –” his voice broke then. Merlin had been crying all along, his tears were coming down quietly and he made no effort to wipe them.

It was then that Arthur realised that though Merlin’s eyes seemed to be fixed on something across the street, he wasn’t really looking at anything. Arthur was sure he wasn’t seeing anything in front of him.

Merlin sniffed, “It should have been me there.” Arthur recognized he had guessed wrong. Merlin’s voice was not calm, it was hollow.

“God, don’t say that,” he reprehended trying to inspect Merlin for any signs of an impending panic attack, but aside from looking paler than the usual and shivering – though Arthur could as well blame that on the fact that Merlin was wet from the rain – he didn’t look like the Merlin from that day in the garage. “I’m so sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin acknowledged him with a faint nod. “Thank you for coming. After what happened at your father’s birthday I really had no one else to call.” If it were any other time Arthur would have felt offended by that comment, like he was a last option, but now he just wanted to hug Merlin and take him far away from that place.

“We should get out of here,” Arthur suggested. Merlin’s tranquility was making _him_ anxious. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how Merlin was feeling, what he must have felt when he found his fiancé murdered on their bed. At least the police didn’t seem to think that Merlin was a suspect.

Merlin just shook his head, “The police said I have to wait until… until they take him away,” he explained, still gazing vacantly ahead. A coroner’s car had arrived shortly after Arthur, so he assumed it would still take a while.

They sat there for what seemed to Arthur to have been an hour or so, until one of the officers said that they were done and that they were about to bring Mordred’s body down.  By then there were a lot more people around, residents and bystanders, curious to know what was going on.

Arthur got to his feet and offered a hand for Merlin to get up. “How are you feeling?” he asked, anxious to get out of there so that Merlin wouldn’t have to see his fiancé in a body sac.

“Numb,” Merlin sighed, turning, for the first time in the night, to look Arthur. “I need to go the hospital.”

A paramedic coming out of the building behind Merlin caught the last part of the conversation and stopped to ask, “Sir, are you hurt?”

“Not that kind of hospital,” Merlin answered without turning from Arthur. The man insisted one more time, asking if he was sure and then left with a shrug after Merlin nodded in affirmation. “Call Kilgharrah,” Merlin continued, this time to Arthur, handing him his mobile, “tell him I’m coming.”

 

Doctor Kilgharrah was already waiting for them at the reception when they arrived. Merlin explained to Arthur that the clinic actually belonged to the doctor and he lived there, in a house a few meters from the main building where the patients stayed.

“You’ve been here before?” Arthur had asked while he parked the car. Merlin was distracted, looking out the window and Arthur had to repeat the question.

“No, we lived in Ireland,” Merlin had answered vaguely still gazing at the garden in front of the main building. He was silent for so long after that Arthur didn’t think Merlin had anything else to say. He had just opened the door when Merlin spoke again, “It was really my fault this time.”

Arthur had felt so at lost, knowing that nothing he could say would make Merlin think otherwise, that he just got of the car without replying, and waited for Merlin to do the same.

Now Doctor Kilgharrah, one of the oldest men Arthur had ever seen, was talking quietly with Merlin as he signed some papers, in a tone too low for Arthur to hear it from where he was standing, keeping a respectable distance to give them privacy.

Merlin walked back to him a few minutes later. “I’m staying here,” he explained, though Arthur had already guessed that.

“For tonight?” he asked and he saw Merlin biting down hard at his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“A little longer,” Merlin answer then, hugging himself. He looked so miserable that it made Arthur want to cry.

“I’ll stay with you,” he offered even though he knew it wasn’t possible. He just wanted to do something for Merlin. Faced with Merlin’s suffering Arthur felt useless.

Kilgharrah joined them then, he placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulders and announced that his room was ready. “You go now and change these clothes,” he said to Merlin. “I’ll be with you soon.” He gestured for an orderly to accompany Merlin.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin said in a grave tone. It felt like he was saying goodbye for good, which scared Arthur more than he could have imagined.

He took one of Merlin’s hands in his; it was so cold Arthur brought his other hand to cover it, pushing their hands against his heart. “Call me, right. Please,” he asked, squeezing Merlin’s hand between his.

Merlin pushed his hand free and launching himself against Arthur’s body, wrapping his arms tightly around Arthur’s neck. He buried his head on the crock of Arthur’s neck and Arthur did the same. Neither of them spoke. Arthur felt Merlin’s tears – the only warmth coming from Merlin – fall on his skin and run down his neck. Someone sniffed, and Arthur was surprised to notice it had been him.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered into Merlin’s ear before letting him go.

Arthur waited until Merlin was out of sight to turn to the doctor, who was still standing there in front of him.

“Nice to meet you doctor, I’m Arthur Pendragon,” he said, stretching his hand to the man. “We uh, spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, yes, Mr. Pendragon,” he said, shaking Arthur’s hand. “Nice meeting you as well. I must say I am quite a fan of your product.”

Arthur blushed. “Uh, thank you, sir,” he nodded embarrassed, shifting his weight from one foot the other. “What happens now? With Merlin?”

“I am afraid I cannot discuss the matter with you, young Pendragon. However, I should speak to a family member. I’m going to call Mrs. Le Fay, and ask her to come here, if you don’t mind waiting perhaps she’d willing to share information with you.” The doctor didn’t wait for Arthur’s answer before turning his back to him and walking away.

Kilgharrah clearly hadn’t given Vivian much explanation about Merlin, for the first thing she said when she entered his office – where he and Arthur had been waiting for her – was, “Why has my nephew put himself on suicide watch, Kilgharrah?” And then she noticed Arthur. “And what is Uther’s son doing here?”

The doctor let Arthur explain the situation, using that as an excuse for him to be there. Vivian was sitting on the armchair next to him when he finished, a hand covering her mouth and a shocked expression on her face.

“Merlin is no longer a lost teenage boy, Vivian,” Kilgharrah told her quietly. “He is a grown man, he knows his limits now.”

“But do _you_ think this is necessary?”

“ _Merlin_ thinks so,” the psychiatrist retorted. “And I quite agree with him. Grieving has always been a difficulty of his, as you are well aware of. If he sought help it is because he knows he is going to need it.”

Vivian closed her eyes at that; she took a deep breath before speaking again, “You are right,” she looked down at her hands and sighed. “Poor Mordred,” Vivian lamented, shaking her head. “Who would do such a thing?” she said that looking at Arthur, but he could see she was genuinely looking for an answer and not accusing him.

“The police are investigating. Merlin doesn’t remember if the door was locked or not, but the flowers and the bloke who delivered them are the best leads so far,” Arthur informed Vivian. The police didn’t know yet if anything in particular was missing from the flat, because Merlin had been in no state to make an inventory of his and Mordred’s possession, but apparently everything of value was still in place. “Shouldn’t someone call his family?”

“He didn’t have any relatives, not that he knew of. Mordred grew up in orphanage,” Vivian explained. When Arthur asked about the funeral she said it would be best to leave that decision to Merlin and then turned to Kilgharrah to ask, “Do you think he is going to be here long?”

“I hope not,” he replied as he got up from his chair. “I should go see him now.” Arthur and Vivian followed him out of the room. “One last thing,” he said, looking straight at Vivian and deliberately ignoring Arthur’s presence. “It might be wise –depending on his state – for Merlin to start on his medicine again.”

Again, Kilgharrah left without waiting for a reply.

“Is that a bad thing?” Arthur asked Vivian, she had her lips pressed in a thin line.

“Oh Arthur, it is,” she sighed and looked at him with a hopeless expression, “it’s a bad thing.”

* * *

 

After being admitted to the clinic Merlin had to change his clothes for the light green standard uniform the patients worn. Merlin had also to take off his bracelet, and that was why, the next thing he knew, the skin on his left forearm was angry red and irritated from where he had been scratching. He didn’t fell a thing. Merlin stared at it until the door of his private room was opened and closed as Kilgharrah came in. 

He knew the doctor would reprehend him for the scratching, although Merlin was well aware that he had been under observation since he entered the clinic – it was the reason he was there after all, to be looked after –, so he didn’t try to hide his arm. If anybody had thought he was about to really hurt himself they would have come in to stop him.

Kilgharrah pushed the chair from the table to sit in front of Merlin, who was crossed legged on the bed. “Why are you here, Merlin?” He had asked that same question the first time Merlin had been submitted under his care. Back then Merlin didn’t have an answer to him; his mind had still been too foggy from the medication he had taken at the hospital and all Merlin could do at the time was to rock himself back and forth and mumble things that didn’t make any sense. Now he had an answer.

“I’m going to break.” Merlin’s right hand was about to start the scratching again. He wasn’t even aware of it until Kilgharrah took it away from his left arm, and held it between his hands in a firm grip. Merlin could easily break free, but he knew that if did so both his arms would be restrained. Without the distraction of the scratching he had no other option than to talk, “You know this time it really is on me, right? This death – Mordred – he could be back in Wales now, he _would_ be. If I wasn’t so selfish,” Merlin gulped. “If I hadn’t asked him to stay,” his voice broke into a sob and he shook his head. “I should have let him go.”

Kilgharrah didn’t try to correct him, he didn’t say anything to persuade Merlin that he wrong, and even though Merlin knew his psychiatrist didn’t do that because he knew it would be pointless right now, at the back of his mind there was a voice telling Merlin that Kilgharrah’s silence was just a confirmation that he agreed with Merlin. Mordred’s blood was on his hands.

The doctor seemed to read his mind, for the next thing he asked was, “What does it make you want to do? All this feeling, what are they telling you, Merlin?” Out of instinct, Merlin tried to push his hand but Kilgharrah just tightened his grip on it and Merlin dropped his arm.

“I want people to stop dying around me,” he whispered, looking down at his left wrist with the full knowledge that that wasn’t the answer to the doctor’s question.

“That is impossible, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said matter-of-factly. “Every living thing dies eventually.”

“But they didn’t die naturally,” he snapped back.

“Do you want to argue about fates and destinies,” the doctor responded in a snarky manner. Merlin just glared at him, knowing it was the start of a long speech. “I could sit here and pat your head and say that everything is going to be alright, and promise you tomorrow will be kinder, but that is not what you need to hear, Merlin.” He straightened up his back but didn’t let go of Merlin’s hand. “You have been hearing that since you were five years old and it hasn’t done you any good so far.

Now I’m going to tell you something – look at me,” Kilgharrah ordered, squeezing Merlin’s hand until he looked up at him again. “I’m going to tell you,” he repeated, “something that would have been too harsh to your sixteen year old self, but it is exactly what you need to hear now. Your what-ifs and your maybes won’t change the past, Merlin. You need to let go of this god complex of yours; other people’s lives are _not_ in your hands. So you have no _right_ to feel guilt over their deaths.” Kilgharrah slowly let go of Merlin’s hand then, and Merlin used both his hands to cover his face as he began to cry.

“I want to stop hurting,” he confessed in a muffled voice.

“You know the funny thing about pain, Merlin,” Kilgharrah said, patting one of Merlin’s knees. He waited for Merlin to uncover his face to continue, “When it’s continuous, you usually never notice the exact moment it stops. You only know it’s gone when you realise you’ve forgotten about it.”

“What do you mean?”

Kilgharrah gave another pat to Merlin’s knee before standing up. “There is more to your life than pain, young man. Try to keep that in mind,” he advised and then added before opening the door, “I’ll have a nurse bring you something to help you sleep. Tomorrow I’ll reintroduce you to one of your medicines, Merlin. Rest now.” 

Soon after he left a nurse came to bring Merlin a pill and a cup of water and soon enough he was fast asleep.

 

Kilgharrah put Merlin back on one of his last strong meds and for that Merlin was thankful. The doctor had explained to him that it wouldn’t do to make Merlin numb, he had to go through his grief, it was an important part of mourning. So Merlin didn’t feel as disconnected to the world as he used to when he first started taking anti-depressants. 

Merlin declined any kind of visitation from his family or Arthur during his time at the clinic. The only people he accepted seeing was the police, and even that was only after a few days had passed. They had released Mordred’s body and they needed to take Merlin’s statement again now that they had more information to work with.

The detective taking care of the case was an easy going bloke, Daniel Lamorak, who reminded Merlin of Gwen’s younger brother. He told Merlin about all the things of value they had found in the flat and asked if there was anything that might have been missing, to which Merlin answered that that was all they had.

“We also have a sketch of the suspect’s face, based on the description given by,” Lamorak stopped to check his notepad, “Mr. Ernest Pellinore. I would like you to take a look at it, once you feel comfortable. According to Mr. Pellinore the suspect used your name Mr. Emrys, you might know who he is.”

Merlin nodded and then asked, “What about the flowers? I would never send them to Mordred, he was allergic.”

“We were able to trace them, they are from a shop close to your building, but the man paid for them in cash so it is pretty much a dead end.”

Lamorak left Merlin with a promise that he would do everything within his power to find the man, and for his part, Merlin told him he was ready to see the sketch at any time.

After the detective was gone Merlin went to see Kilgharrah at his office. “I need to take care of things,” he explained to the doctor, “about Mordred.”

“You mean you want to leave?” Merlin shrugged not knowing what to answer and Kilgharrah continued, “This is not a prison, Merlin. But we do have rules.”

“I know, but there’s no one else to do this, I’m the closest thing to family he had.”

“Are you going to prepare a funeral?” Kilgharrah asked, linking his fingers together over the table. “Do you think you are ready for that?”

“No, not a funeral,” Merlin shook his head, “nothing like that. He told me once he wanted to be cremated – and uh – given the circumstances I think that’s the best course of action.”

Kilgharrah was silent for a few moments, probably considering if he should let Merlin go or not. Merlin himself wasn’t sure he could handle it, and part of him was relieved the decision wasn’t entirely in his hands. Kilgharrah inhaled deeply when he seemed to have found a solution. “I’ll tell you something, Merlin. You stay here for another two days and then I’ll let you go arrange things for your boyfriend’s cremation. And you can return afterward, if you feel that you’ll need it. As for the other formalities your aunt is already taking care of it, so you don’t have to worry, Merlin.”

Merlin could recognize a dismissal when he saw one, so he excused himself and left Kilgharrah’s office to go walk around the garden. There wasn’t anything he could do now, anyway.

* * *

 

Morgause had just come from a headache inducing meeting when Agravaine entered her office, without being announced. She made a mental note to fire her useless secretary.

“Tell me, mother,” he started saying with a smug smirk as he took a sit in front of her. “Have you noticed Emrys’ no longer around? And you know why? He lowered his tone and leaned over her desk to whisper, “He’s dead.”

“No, he isn’t,” Morgause sighed bored. Agravaine’s cheerfulness was only serving to aggravate her annoyance. Fate had not been that kind with her in years, Emrys was probably just embarrassed about his behavior at Uther’s birthday. “He has been absent for some days, I’ll give you that,” she acknowledged, taking off her reading glasses. There was no point in trying to work if Agravaine was just going to keep bothering her. “But why would you jump to a conclusion like this –” her son’s smile only grew bigger as she talked. Morgause narrowed her eyes at him. “What have you done?”

He gave what he must have thought it was a predatory smile. Morgause just thought it was pathetic. “I got rid of him.” And then her son proceeded to describe in detail what he had done to Merlin Emrys. “I put the gun back where I found it.”

Morgause rolled her eyes at his stupidity. “Why would you do such a thing?”

“I thought it would be safer,” Agravaine sounded so sure she almost felt sorry for him. Her son was so naïve.

“Well, the die is cast now,” she sighed. And as an afterthought Morgause smiled at him, “Thank you, Agravaine,” he beamed at her words and she allowed herself to enjoy some sense of relief. The company was free from all Emryses at last. “Come,” she got up and call him to follow her, “let’s see how Arthur has taken the news.”

They found Arthur talking quietly with the receptionist of his floor; it wasn’t the first time Morgause had caught the two of them in the middle of a conversation. Arthur had befriended the girl at around the same time Emrys had showed up. It was an odd coincidence.

“Arthur, dear!” she called and pretended not to see him rolling his eyes to the receptionist. Morgause also ignored the girl’s failed attempt at hiding a giggle. “How are you?”

“Uh – good?” he answered with a frown.

“I heard about Merlin,” she explained.

“Oh,” he looked away from her to the girl at the desk, clearly reluctant about sharing anything, but Morgause waited patiently for him to speak again. Her long silence made Arthur uncomfortable enough that he finally said, “It a tragedy. No one deserves this, but he’ll recover –”

“Re-recover?” Agravaine stutter from behind her and Morgause elbowed him on the ribs.  

“…from the trauma,” Arthur concluded, looking at Agravaine through narrowed eyes. Morgause turned to look at him as well; he was white as sheet of paper. She turned back to Arthur, trying to come up with anything that would cover the situation.

“And uh, how is Merlin _feeling?_ ”

“He’ll get better,” Arthur repeated. “If you’d excuse me, I have things to do.”

Morgause’s headache made itself known again. She turned to the girl after Arthur left. “Such a tragedy,” she echoed Arthur’s words looking at the girl with a sorrowful expression.

“I know, right,” she brought a hand over her heart and for a moment Morgause thought she was about to start crying. “Who would do such a thing? Poor Mordred,” she lamented.

“Mordred?”

“Merlin’s fiancé,” the girl said slowly, “whooo was killed.”

“Oh, I –I didn’t know his name. My condolences.”

“It’s not for me you should be saying that,” the girl mumbled under her breath.

“What?” Morgause asked, ready to put that little thing on her right place. But the girl was saved by her telephone which started to ring in that moment.

“Excuse me,” she said to Morgause before picking the phone up, “ _Pendragon_ Beverages, this is Elena, how can I help you?”

Morgause turned to glare at her son; she didn’t dare saying anything there in the open, not to arouse suspicion. But she didn’t even have to. It was written all over Agravaine’s face. He knew he had made a huge mistake.

* * *

 

During the two weeks Merlin spent in the clinic Arthur started to conduct his own private investigation over... Well, he wasn’t really sure about what, but there was something odd going on and Arthur was aware of it. And he knew that somehow Morgause was involved. He didn’t trust his aunt, never had.

Ever since he was a child Arthur had always taken pride in being perceptive, and he noticed how Morgause tried to manipulate everyone around her. It also didn’t sit well with him that she seemed to be jealous of his mother. Arthur remembered her face during Igraine’s funeral, as the coffin was being put to the ground, she seemed almost pleased.

Now, after he had seen what she had done to Merlin, a feeling of suspicious began to nag at the back of Arthur’s mind. And the fact that someone had entered Merlin’s flat, murdered his boyfriend in his sleep and didn’t take a thing from the place. Not to mention Morgause’s strange inquiry about Merlin’s wellbeing.

Arthur left the office earlier to go to the police station and question Detective Lamorak about the investigation.

“There isn’t much I can tell you, Arthur,” he said and then took a sip of the coffee Arthur had brought to him. “Merlin still has to see the sketch though, so there might be something there.”

“Can I see it?” Arthur asked, resting his elbow on the detective’s desk and leaning forward. He saw Lamorak heisted for a second and then sigh.

“What the hell,” The detective gave in and opened a drawer on his desk to take a thin folder from it. “Who knows, right,” he said dropping the folder on the desk and opening it. He took a sheet from it and passed it to Arthur. “Perhaps you’ll be the one to recognize him.”

The detective had no idea how right he was. Arthur knew exactly who that was. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, tilting the paper to one side and the other to look at it from another angle. But all of them told Arthur the same thing. He was looking at Agravaine.

“Wait, wait, wait… you _know_ who this bloke is?” Arthur ignored him for and continued to stare with horror at the sketch as he suddenly remembered Agravaine’s reaction when Arthur had said Merlin would recover. He had panicked. “Fuck, Pendragon,” Lamorak slammed a hand on the desk, “say something.”

“It’s my cousin,” Arthur announced at last, he saw the look of surprise on the detective’s face, he could empathize.

“God! Are you sure?”

Arthur nodded, “About eighty percent sure, yeah. Agravaine Orkney,” he pointed at the paper, “that’s him. What are you going to do now?”

“Bring him in, for identification. There are two eye witnesses, Merlin’s doorman and the kid from the flower shop. If they can confirm what you said,” Lamorak shook his head, shooting Arthur a sympathetic look, “mate, you gonna have a shite Christmas.”

Arthur’s head was pounding when he left the station. He couldn’t believe Morgause had done something like that. Because of course, if Agravaine had anything to do with Mordred’s death, Arthur would bet his left arm his cousin acted on his mother’s account. Agravaine was a puppet; he wouldn’t do this out of his own volition.

As he walked back to his car something else came to Arthur’s mind. Mordred wasn’t the original target. Agravaine – and now Arthur was completely convince he was the responsible for Mordred’s death – probably didn’t even know about Mordred’s existence. The flowers were _for_ Merlin, not _from_ him, the doorman had said. Arthur began to breathe rapidly. Agravaine had killed Mordred thinking that he was Merlin. And now he knew Merlin was alive.

Merlin could still be in danger.

Arthur ran back to the police station and shared his concerns with Lamorak.

“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll put two of my men to guard the clinic. No one’s gonna hurt Merlin,” The detective tried to reassure him.

“Yeah, not physically anyway,” Arthur muttered under his breath with a grim, thinking about how fragile and emotionally wrecked Merlin was right now.

“There is only so much we can do, Arthur,” Lamorak said.

“I know, sorry. It’s just – it’s hard to see him hurt.” Arthur admitted unwillingly. _See_ not even being the right word to describe it, since Merlin had refused to receive visitors; and wasn’t that another prove of how bad he must have been?

“Er,” the detective groaned, avoiding Arthur’s eyes, he looked down and rubbed his shaved head. “This is not place, I shouldn’t pry…”

“Yes,” Arthur put him out of his misery, “we had or have – I don’t even know at this point – there was something between us. You should probably know that anyway, in case you think I’m suspect.”

Lamorak cleared his throat. “I was, uh, I was actually going to ask if you love him. But I guess you kinda answer that.”


	12. Chapter 12

The two eye witnesses recognized Agravaine as the man they saw the night Mordred was killed. Lamorak had changed his tactic and had used a photo of Agravaine instead of asking him to go to the police station, so that, if Arthur had been wrong, his cousin wouldn’t know about it.

At Arthur’s request, after both witnesses gave their positive identification, Lamorak decided it wouldn’t be necessary to show the sketch to Merlin.

They were in the middle of a meeting with the board when the police entered _Pendragon_ to take Agravaine. He was sitting on a chair behind his mother, taking notes for Morgause when the doors were opened and Lamorak approached him with two other officers. He pushed Agravaine up by the arm.

“Agravaine Orkney, you are arrested for the murdered of Mordred Edling. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law.”

The board members watched the scene in shock, and all around him all Arthur could hear were whispers questioning what was going on and who was Mordred Edling. Most of them hadn’t even noticed Merlin’s absence; it was too much to expect they would know he had a boyfriend.

Agravaine didn’t go quietly. He began to cry as soon as the cuffs were locked around his wrists. “Mother, help me! I did it for you!” he sobbed looking down at Morgause, but she just stared at him with the same shocked expression as the people around the table.

“What is happening here?” Uther asked, and Lamorak just repeat to him that Agravaine had killed Mordred. “Who is this Mordred person?” he asked looking from Agravaine to Lamorak and back.

“He was Merlin’s boyfriend, father,” Arthur answered.

Lamorak turned from them to Morgause, “Ma’am is this true? Did you order Mr. Edling’s assassination? Or Mr. Emrys’?”

Morgause looked at him with wide eyes, “Of course not. I have no idea why my son would do such a thing, though,” she sighed dramatically, “I do believe he must be suffering from some kind of mental affliction.”

“Mother,” Agravaine cried, but neither Morgause nor the police paid him any mind. The only one who seemed genuinely concern about him was Lot, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. He was at Agravaine’s side whispering for him to not say anything without a lawyer.

Arthur felt sorry for his uncle. But he wanted Agravaine to rot in hell.

Agravaine left the room kicking and screaming, and Arthur followed the police officers.

“You’re going to tell him?” he called and Lamorak stopped to turn to him.

A broad smiled spread over the detective’s face, “He already knows. Oh, and you should give ‘im a call. He’ll be out today.”

* * *

 

Two days had not being enough for Merlin to prepare himself. Overall, he ended up spending about two weeks at the clinic. The medicine was helping him more than it did when he was younger, now that  he was only taking one and not several pills a day.  Kilgharrah had said that in a month or two Merlin could start taking them once a week, then once every two week, until he could stop with them again altogether.

It would be a long road, but Merlin was ready for it. He had already walked that road once, when it used to be a lot darker.

The decision to finally leave the clinic came after Merlin received his one and only visitor that morning, Daniel.

“Agravaine?” Merlin had asked perplexed, after Lamorak informed him about everything that had happened since Arthur had seen the sketch, which now Merlin knew the reason why he hadn’t seen it. Arthur wanted to protect him.

“Yeah, he uh,” the detective cleared his throat, “he probably thought it was you, on the bed.”

“Jesus!” It hurt to know that, but this time Merlin didn’t pin it on himself. It was not his fault someone wanted to kill him.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin. But if it’s any consolation,” Lamorak had said before he left to go arrest Agravaine, “you’ve still got people who love you out there.” He gave Merlin a knowing smiled and Merlin didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t know who the detective was talking about. He smiled back and thanked Lamorak for his service. And once he was alone Merlin called an orderly and asked him to bring his clothing and personal objects.

Merlin was leaving.

 

He had asked Aunt Vivian – through Kilgharrah – to get rid of the bed. Merlin had yet to work up the courage to apologize to her face to face. So when he was finally home again he discovered that she had also taken the liberty of replacing the bed with a new one. It looked nothing like the old one, and Merlin was thankful.

Aside from that the flat looked the same. All of his and Modred’s things were on place, which Merlin supposed it was Vivian’s doing again, for the police had gone over all of their stuff, and Merlin doubted they would have taken a moment to put everything back where they had found it.

Merlin called his aunt. Vivian’s first reaction was to get mad at him for taking a cab home instead of calling her to pick him up. And then she asked if he wanted her to come over.

“Not yet, let me settle in first.”

_“Are you going to be okay?”_

Merlin looked around the bedroom, he wouldn’t be able to sleep there just yet, of that he was sure. But aside from that he was just glad to be home, all things considered. “I will, Aunt Viv, I will.” The bedroom was starting to overwhelm him, so Merlin went to the living room. “I am sorry about what I did at the dinner. It wasn’t my place.” Merlin closed his eyes, focusing on his Aunt’s breathing over the line. “It wasn’t my secret.”

Part of him felt like he should not be apologizing now, because people would forgive him for fear of upsetting him, or they would do it out of pity. But he dismissed that, he knew Vivian his whole life, she wouldn’t sugar coat Merlin.

“ _No, it was not_ ,” she agreed, proving his point. “ _but I forgive you, anyway Merlin.”_

“Because I’m fragile?” he couldn’t help but to ask.

“ _Because I love you, like a mother,_ ” she sniffed, “ _and mothers always forgive.”_

Merlin’s mind went back to that time Mordred had called him selfish, and he suddenly realised how much time he had spent obsessing over his dead parents, and how fewer had been the times when he stopped to appreciate his living one.

“I love you, too,” he smiled even though she couldn’t see him, “you know that, right? And if I never said this before, I’ll tell you now,” Merlin had to stop to take a shaky breath, but Vivian waited patiently. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me. You _are_ my mother, you have been for all this time and I never gave you the credit you deserved.”

“ _I don’t want any credit, sweetheart. Your love is all the reward I could ever want.”_

 “And you have it, you know you do,” Merlin chuckled softly. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was crying tears of joy not sadness or regret. He hung up also feeling lighter than he had in years. There was still some pretty heavy stuff for him to do, but Merlin wasn’t feeling anxious about it. He was in peace.

 

Merlin’s second and last phone call of that day was to arrange Mordred’s cremation, which was schedule to the next day, since the body had already been waiting for way to long. The mortician didn’t even ask if Merlin wanted to see the body one last time; Mordred’s face wasn’t there anymore, and neither was he really. Merlin was just going to be there to watch the cremation and to then take what was left of his fiancé back to Wales.

He slept on the sofa, but thanks to his meds, Merlin was able to get a good night’s sleep.

After he showered, Merlin discovered that there was nothing to eat on his kitchen, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, but he completely forgot that no one was there to do the grocery the past two weeks. He sighed and closed the fridge, there were several notes stuck on its door with magnets. Merlin took one of them and smiled; the shopping list. He folded the paper carefully and put it on the front pocket of his jeans.

Merlin had first considered wearing a suit for today, but he wasn’t going to a funeral, no one else would be there except him. Merlin didn’t have to dress to impress anyone, and Mordred, Mordred had always known he hated suites and ties. Merlin liked to think that Mordred would rather see him like this, jeans and shirt, which was basically what he had been wearing the day they met. It seemed fitting; as if they were coming full circle.

The first thing Merlin notice when the elevator’s door opened was the blond head, then the broad shoulders and really, there was no mistaking the man talking to Ernie’s coworker, Mr. Bors.

“Arthur.” Merlin had no idea how much he had missed Arthur, not until he saw him turning to see who was calling. And in the next moment Merlin was flinging his arms around Arthur’s neck. “Oh God, I missed you,” he muffled in the crook of Arthur’s neck.

Arthur had been caught off guard and it took him a moment to reciprocate, but then he was putting his arms around Merlin’s waist and holding him in a tight embrace. “You’re the one who didn’t want to see me,” he accused with a chuckle.

Merlin disentangled his arms from Arthur’s neck, taking a small step back so that he could look Arthur in the face. “I couldn’t,” he explained, shaking his head. He brought a hand up to fix the mess he had made of Arthur’s hair, he wasn’t very successful but he managed to at least take it out of Arthur’s eyes. “Not like that, I couldn’t – I didn’t want to be seen like that. I needed help.”

“But you are good now?” Arthur asked his expression full of concern but also understanding. He knew Merlin had needed space, and he had respected that.

“I’m getting better,” Merlin nodded. He took a deep breath before announcing, “Mordred’s going to be cremated. Now.” Merlin licked his lips nervously. He had thought that he could do this alone, but seeing Arthur now made him wish he had company. “I’m driving to Cardiff after; there is a place I think he would like to – be. Come with me?”

Arthur seemed surprised by the request, nevertheless, he accepted. He held Merlin’s hand as the coffin was rolled to the incinerator.

Neither of them spoke on the journey to Wales. When they got there, Arthur gave Merlin some space, staying a few feet behind to offer some privacy.

So as he approached the edge of Castle Bridge alone, the memories of the first time Mordred had shown him that place start to come to Merlin’s mind. It had been there that Mordred had dropped to one knee and proposed to Merlin. He felt the tears coming up his eyes but he ignored them.

Merlin had no big speeches, no last words prepared; the only words on him were from the pathetic grocery list on his pocket, scribbled in a hurry with messy handwriting. But there was no need for fancy declarations of undying love; their relationship had never been based on those. He would always love Mordred, regardless of what he felt for Arthur.

 He opened the urn and turned it upside down, letting Mordred’s ashes go with the wind and the waters of River Taff. _I’m sorry if I made you suffer,_ Merlin apologized in thought, following the course of the river with his eyes, as the water took what was left of Mordred away. _You deserved so much better, but I’m glad you chose me._ “Goodbye, _cariad_ ,” Merlin whispered the only thing that was left for him to say.

* * *

 

Arthur waited quietly, watching from afar as Merlin said his goodbyes. For a moment he felt guilty over his feelings for Merlin, but Arthur never wished Mordred’s death, he didn’t even know of his existence until Arthur was already far too deep in it for Merlin. He wished things could have been different, but he didn’t know how. Mordred’s death had nothing to do with him and Merlin.

He just hoped that Merlin would be fine for now on, and to be able to make him happy again.

A few more minutes later Merlin returned to him; his eyes were puffy but he wasn’t crying anymore, he looked at Arthur with a faint smile on his lips. “Let’s go home?” Even though Arthur knew Merlin had meant Camelot, his heart still skipped a beat at the last word.

“Where do you think he is now?” Arthur asked once they were back in his car. He had offered to drive when Merlin had asked him to come along. Arthur wasn’t a religious person but he want to know how Merlin felt anyway.

“Somewhere good, I hope,” Merlin answered after some time, looking out the window.

Arthur stole a glance at him but he couldn’t see Merlin’s face, he put his eyes back on the road ahead. “What about Agravaine?”

Merlin inhaled deeply, turning his head to glance at Arthur. “I don’t care what happens to him, as long as he pays for what he did.” Arthur asked if he wanted to know why his cousin had done it and Merlin replied with a shrug. “He wanted to kill me.”

“He said he’d done it for Morgause.”

Merlin scoffed, “Sounds about right.”

“I talked to Morgana,” Arthur changed the subject to something that wouldn’t upset Merlin. “After the birthday, I went to her place.”

A light blush began to spread over Merlin’s high cheekbones. “She hates me,” he said; it wasn’t a question.

“She was angry, but she doesn’t hate you,” Arthur tried to reassure him but Merlin didn’t seem very convinced. “She doesn’t want to see Uther, but she accepted me.”

“That’s good, Arthur.” Merlin shot him a shy encouraging grin. He rested his head against the headrest, keeping his eyes fixed on Arthur with an expression Arthur couldn’t quite read. “I don’t think I wanna have contact with your family again.”

Arthur felt a pang in his heart; he didn’t dare looking at Merlin when he asked, “Even me?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Merlin shake his head faintly. “All _but_ you,” he was grinning at Arthur’s sudden insecurity. “Well, and Gawain too, I suppose. I trust Morgana’s judgment.”

“So, Gawain and I?” Merlin nodded amused. “And no one else?”

“Is she friends with anyone else in your family?”

“She is more than friends with Gawain,” Arthur shot, instead of answering.

“Just him, I hope,” Merlin snorted. They had reached his building and Arthur parked the car in front of it.

“Yeah, incest? Not my thing,” he replied as he removed the seatbelt.

Merlin did the same, turning his back to the door; he brought a leg under his body. “Thank you for today. You have no idea how much it meant to me.” He leaned forward and Arthur held his breath, but Merlin just planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. “We talk later, uh?”

“Sure,” Arthur agreed. He didn’t ask when later was, he would give Merlin time and wait until Merlin was ready. They had just come from scattering his fiancé’s ashes over a river; Arthur would feel like a prick  approaching the subject now.

But once Merlin was ready to accept his love, Arthur sure as hell would be there to give it to him.

* * *

 

The next step on Merlin’s list was to organize his things, and put Mordred’s belongings into boxes. He didn’t want to procrastinate that particular activity any more than he should. Merlin had in his mind that, the sooner he got that done, the better he would feel.

He also hoped that, after the cleaning, he would be able to sleep in the bedroom again. It would be easier to be there without the risks of bumping into things that would bring streams of memories which would paralyze him. Merlin had no intention of dwelling on grief for longer. He was tired of that road.

So in the next day he woke up early to make a quick trip to the supermarket and once his grocery was stored in place, Merlin set to organize his bedroom; he had brought some cardboard boxes from the supermarket, and had just taken the last of them from the living room to the bedroom when the interphone rang.

Morgana was there to see him.

Merlin authorized the doorman to let her up and waited anxiously at the door.

“I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me!” he begged as soon as he saw Morgana, twisting his hands nervously.

“I came to see how you were. I was worried sick, Merlin. Do you really think that still matters, after everything that happened since then?”

“I thought you might still be mad,” Merlin replied, unsure of himself.

“Nonsense,” Morgana waved away his concern. “Just tell me you’re okay. And if you’re not we’ll fix it. Together.” She hugged Merlin then, and he held her tight, promising he would never hurt her again.

With Morgana’s help the cleaning and organizing went a lot faster than Merlin would have managed alone. They were separating things into boxes to charity and stuff that Merlin would like to keep. He was almost done with the closet when his attention was drawn to something.

Merlin’s breath got caught up in his throat.

A small blue velvet box fell from the middle of one of Mordred’s old jumpers when Merlin accidently unfolded it as he took the jumper from the closed.

Merlin dropped the jumper back on the drawer and bent down to take the box. He was only vaguely aware of Morgana stopping what she was doing and walking over to him. Merlin felt his legs give in under him and sat down on the floor.

“Oh, Merlin,” Morgana exclaimed, sitting down next to him on the floor, she put her arms around Merlin and held him in a tight embrace.

Mordred had still been at law school when he proposed to Merlin. He had been pretty broke at the time and had no money to buy a ring. But Merlin hadn’t cared the least. The both of them were acting more or less on impulse that day, drunk in love and cheap wine.

 _“I’ll find something as pretty as you_ ,” Mordred had promised. “ _Gonna cost me a fuck load of money, but I’ll get you that ring,_ cariad.”

Merlin suspected Mordred had already a ring in mind that day, and knowing him as Merlin did, he was sure that it was the one inside the box Merlin was holding right now. He wondered when Mordred had got it and as for why Mordred hadn’t given to him yet, Merlin was pretty sure he knew the reason already.

He had been working very hard to not let the guilt drive him crazy. But it was difficult not to feel remorse now.

“I’m trying to work up the courage to open it,” he told Morgana as she rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“Do you want me to give you space?”

“No, it’s okay. I just need another moment.”

Morgana got up and went back to organizing the boxes, while Merlin sat there staring at the ring box for about ten minutes. He rolled the box between his hands a few times and then took a deep breath before opening it.

Inside it there was a beautiful band made of white gold with a pattern of Celtic symbols around it. Merlin smiled at it, he ran his thumb over the surface of the ring and tried to imagine Mordred choosing it. He knew Merlin so well.

Merlin took it from the box and tried the ring on his finger. It needed to be adjusted, just a little. It was probably why Mordred hadn’t engraved anything on the inside. Merlin took it off and placed it carefully back on the velvet box.

“What are you going to do with it?” Morgana asked. “You’re gonna wear it?”

Merlin shook his head. “I think it’d be a bit morbid, don’t you?” He wondered what Arthur would think if he saw Merlin with it.

“It would,” Morgana agreed with him. “Here, I have an idea.” She turned one of her collars around to unlock its clasp, and then Morgana removed the small ballerina pendant from it and offered the silver chain to Merlin. “Put it here.”

Merlin did as she suggested, and put the necklace around his neck. The chain was long enough that any shirt he worn would cover the ring, but right now Merlin didn’t want to hide it. It was the last present he would ever receive from Mordred, and Merlin would carry it with him forever.


	13. Chapter 13

Merlin Emrys had cost Morgause one of her sons. Of course, Agravaine’s stupidity had played an important part on his downfall but Morgause was still going to make Emrys pay for it.

But she did her research on him first. Morgause found everything she needed to know to bring Merlin down for good and without suspicion.

With a burner mobile she phoned him. “Merlin, dear, this is Morgause.”

“ _Uh, hello_ ,” he sounded confused. “ _Morgause? Where did you get my number?_ ”

“Elena,” Morgause explained. “She gave it to me,” not that the girl was aware of the fact.

“ _Uh, okay. What – how can I help you?_ ”

“Oh dear,” she rolled her eyes at her own honeyed voice, "I’d like to talk about the unfortunate event involving my son and your late boyfriend.”

“ _I don’t want to talk to you._ ”

“Please, Merlin. I _have_ to apologize to you for all the trouble my son caused you.”

“ _Trouble?”_ Merlin snorted. “ _Your son is a murderer, Morgause, and I am not entirely convinced you’re not involved in this somehow.”_

“Merlin, you’re offending me. I would nerve do something like that.” _I wouldn’t make the stupid mistake of not checking if it was you on the bed before I shot,_ she thought. Morgause’s patience was wearing thin so she played her ultimate card. “There is also – uh – also something I’ve been meaning to tell you, involving Uther… and your parents.”

Merlin was silent for a long time; the only indication that Morgause hadn’t lost the line was his ragged breathing.

“ _Fine,”_ he exhaled reluctantly. “ _You can come over. Do you have my address?_ ” Morgause replied with a negative and he gave her the directions. “ _Just give me an hour, before you come. My place is a bit messy right now_.”

“Of course, dear, take your time. See you soon,” she said and then added after he hung up, “and for the last time.”

 

Morgause was about to leave when she found Gawain talking to Lot in the front of the house. Her son came at her like a rabid dog and for a moment she really thought he was going to hit her.

“This is on you,” Gawain barked, pointing a finger at Morgause. “You filled his head with poison ever since he was a child.”

Morgause snapped back, “I gave the same education to all of my children, and you’re not going around killing people, are you?” She held his gaze in a furious staring competition. “The tree cannot be blamed for the rotten fruit.”

She bypassed him and went to her car before Gawain could say another word, but Morgause heard Lot trying to calm him down, so at least he wouldn’t stab her in the back just now.

 

Once she got to Emrys’ address, Morgause asked a boy that was passing by for him to distract the doorman. Agravaine’s mistake served as a lesson to her, she could not be seen entering the building.

“Boy, come here.” Morgause waited until the boy reluctantly dragged his feet towards her to ask, “Can you do me a favour?”

“What kind of favour?”

“The kind,” she started to answer, taking her wallet out of her purse and fishing about five pounds from it, “that is rewarded.” Morgause smirked at the boy and explained to him what he was supposed to do.

She pretended to look at the shop windows as the kid crossed the street and entered Emrys’s building. Through the reflection on the glass Morgause watched as the boy lured the doorman outside in a hurry. She had no idea what the boy had said but it seemed effective. There was no one there to witness Morgause’s taking the lift to Merlin’s floor.

 

Morgause knocked twice on the door before Merlin answered it.

“Your doorman is rather busy at the moment,” she explained to his confused face. “But he said I could come up.”

“Uh, right,” Merlin said, stepping aside to let her in. “Take a sit,” he offered with a flat voice.

Morgause sat on the edge of the sofa, with her back to the door and, consequently, to Merlin. “Can you be a dear and bring us some tea?” she asked without turning.

He mumbled something that sounded like an agreement and walked – probably – towards the kitchen. And a few – way too few for the tea to be fresh – minutes later Merlin was back with a tray and two cups.

“Oh,” Morgause exclaimed looking at the tea. “Would you bring me some sugar?”

“There’s already sugar in it.”

“Milk then,” she smiled up at him, ignoring his sour expression and Merlin dragged his feet back to the kitchen like a petulant adolescent. “Is a nice place you have,” Morgause lied, taking quick look to see that Merlin had his back turned to her as he opened the fridge.

She took the small bottle of aconite from her purse and dropped half of it into one of the cups. Morgause didn’t risk putting all of it for fear that Merlin would feel the taste before drinking enough of it.

Merlin took more time finding the milk than preparing the tea, and for a second Morgause wondered if he were trying to do the same thing with her that she was doing with him. But, no. Merlin didn’t have it in him.

He let her to pour the milk herself and sat on the other end of the sofa, as far from Morgause as he could get without sitting on the floor.

“I was so distressed when I heard Uther was in that accident that killed Balinor and Hunith,” she said, slowly mixing the milk and tea with a spoon. “He wasn’t supposed to be there. I have loved Uther since the first time we saw each other,” Morgause confessed as Merlin to a sip of his tea. “I would have served him so much better than fucking Elisabeth Bennett. Igraine wasn’t the right woman for him. She had no ambitions.”

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked before finishing his tea.

Morgause waited until he drank the last drop to answer. “Oh, dear,” she chuckled softly, “Because I’m staling.”

Merlin took that as his cue to start coughing and wheezing. He clenched at his throat and suddenly dropped to the floor. Morgause watched with an amused interest as he struggled to breathe.

“Contrary to my imbecile son, I have done my research on you, instead of attacking blindly. I know you tried to kill yourself before. So when they find your body everyone will just assume you finished the job.” She tiskqued, “Arthur will be so disappointed.” Morgause smirked, getting up from the sofa. “Oh, and about your parents… It wasn’t Uther’s fault. I sabotaged that piece of junk Balinor called a car. You were not even sick that night,” Morgause had paid the nanny to make that call. “I planned everything.”

“Why?” Merlin coughed, spluttering saliva everywhere.

“Because I’ve helped Uther more than your useless father ever did,” she snarled down at him, “Because _I_ should have been a Pendragon!” That had nothing to do with Merlin but it was good to finally take it out of her chest.

Merlin turned on his stomach and suddenly his whole body began to tremble frenetically. Morgause thought he was having a seizure and waited eagerly for him to stop breathing.

A moment later he stopped moving altogether, and Morgause was sure he was gone when a sound came from Merlin.

A laugh. He wasn’t seizing, he was laughing.

“You are pathetic,” Merlin said as he got out of the floor, running the back of his hand over his mouth to wipe the saliva. “Do you think I wound ever drink something I left you alone with. I never trusted you,” he gloated, lifting his tee-shirt to show the microphone wire taped to his chest. “The apartment is bugged too, so if your confession wasn’t enough, there is also video footage of you trying to poison me.  You are done, Morgause.”

The door behind Morgause opened and she turned to see Arthur with the detective who had arrested Agravaine and two other policemen. The officers approached her while Arthur stayed back with a smug smirk on his face.

“Ma’am,” the detective said, flashing a pair of handcuffs at Morgause. “You know the drill.”

\---

The Orkneys were wracked. Arthur felt especially bad for Lot and Gareth, who seemed to be the only ones that didn’t see Morgause for what she was. Gawain and Gaheris knew exactly what kind of person their mother was and so they kept their distance from Morgause.

There was no place for sympathy toward Agravaine in Arthur’s heart.

He did what he could to help his family and also took his time to get to know Morgana. They started to go out often, sometimes just the two of them, others with Elena, Merlin and Gawain.

But today wasn’t about the family Arthur already had, but the one he was trying to build.

It had been a month since Morgause’s arrest, and even though it wasn’t really a celebration, Arthur used it as an excuse to invite Merlin to dine at his house.

“You’re late,” he accused as he opened the door to Merlin.

“You live in the middle of nowhere, it’s not my fault,” Merlin defended himself, taking off his scarf.

“Always with the excuses, Merlin,” Arthur joked as he took the scarf from Merlin and put it on the hanger by the door.

“Oh, shut it, you prat. Where’s the food? I’m starving.”

Arthur poked Merlin’s belly, “Stop thinking with your stomach,” and laughed when Merlin batted his hand away.

They ate in companionable silence and after he was finished with the desert Merlin complimented Arthur on his cooking.

“Very sexy,” he teased, “a man who can cook.”

Arthur blushed and took a sip of water before speaking “I know this might sound premature but I love you, Merlin.” Arthur swallowed hard nervously; he had never said that to someone that wasn’t family. “Don’t ask me for how long. I wouldn’t know what to answer. All I know is that you brought so many good things into my life, thanks to you now I have another best friend – two actually – because amongst everything I feel for you I value our friendship the most,” he smiled fondly. “And you also brought me a sister,” he chuckled. Arthur took Merlin’s left hand on his, and ran his thumb over the scar under the bracelet. “I know you suffered and I wished I could have prevented each and every tear of sadness from coming up on your eyes.”

A grin broke in Merlin’s face and a wet chuckle escaped his lips. “It wasn’t up to you,” he said sweetly.

“I know. I can’t change the past even more than I can promise that you will never suffer again.” He squeezed Merlin’s hand. “But I can try my best to prevent that. And do all I can, every day, to make you happy.” Arthur got up and circled the table to kneel in front of Merlin. “Don’t worry, I’m not proposing,” he assured, seeing Merlin’s panicked face. “I know you’re not ready for that. I just want to be close to you,” he explained as he took hold of both of Merlin’s hands.

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed out.

“I love you,” Arthur repeated, drowning on the sea of Merlin’s eyes, he released one of his hands to place it on Merlin’s face, still hypnotized by those deep blue oceans.

“I love you too,” Merlin replied, turning his face to kiss Arthur’s palm.

“Be with me,” Arthur asked, knowing full well that that could have thousands of meanings, and he wanted Merlin to say yes to all of them. But instead of answering, Merlin leaned forward and kissed him.

It wasn’t a chaste kiss, it was hungry and desperate. Merlin parted Arthur’s lips, his tongue seeking shelter inside Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur used the hand on Merlin’s face to drag him out from the chair; he leaned on the floor and brought Merlin’s body down on his. And Merlin placed a hand on each side of Arthur’s face to support himself above him.

“And you accused _me_ of making big speeches,” Merlin joked before going back to kissing the life out of Arthur.

“I want you,” Arthur breathed on Merlin’s mouth and felt him smiling as they kissed.

“I’m already here,” he whispered in a husky voice and proceeded to make a trail of kissed from Arthur jaw to his neck.

Arthur moaned. He used the hand that wasn’t occupied with Merlin’s hair to caress his chest and stomach and was delighted when he managed to extract a guttural sound from the deep of Merlin’s throat. Arthur’s hand travelled further down in a light manner and Merlin shivered.

“I mean I want _you,_ ” he said again, buckling his hips up, and this time Arthur echoed Merlin’s moaning with his own.

During all of this Merlin had been dedicating most of his attention to suck and nip at Arthur’s neck and earlobe, but Arthur’s urges began to distract him from that, so he straddled Arthur and started to fumble with the buttons of Arthur’s shirt.

“Here?” Merlin panted.

Arthur shook his head. “Bed.”

It took them twice as longer to get to the bedroom than it would have taken if they hadn’t stopped several times to slam each other into every available surface, while simultaneously trying to undress one another. Though they only succeeded in that particular task once they reached Arthur’s bedroom.

His shirt and their shoes and socks had already been lost along the way, and now Arthur was working on Merlin’s shirt.

He stopped after the forth button to stare at the ring Merlin was wearing as a pendant. Arthur looked from it to Merlin.

“I found it when I was organizing his things,” he explained. Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. “It makes you uncomfortable.” It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Arthur denied. And he wasn’t just trying to be nice, it really didn’t bother him. “It’s part of your history, and I want every part of you,” he said in a voice thick with emotion as he went back to opening the shirt. “It just caught me by surprise.”

They finished undressing in silence and for a moment Arthur worried he had ruined the mood, but once they were naked Merlin dragged him to the bed and they reassumed their original position from when they were snogging on the floor.

“You’re beautiful,” Merlin said running his thumb over Arthur’s cheek.

Arthur’s breath got caught up in his throat. _Merlin_ was beautiful. He had gone through so much and he had come out stronger from all of it. He not-so-gently pushed Merlin’s head down to crash their mouths together, trying to convey all that he felt into the kiss.

Merlin broke the kiss to go kneel down between Arthur's parted legs. He took Arthur into his mouth and Arthur had to bit his lip as he concentrated in not coming so soon.

Merlin used his fingers to work him open while he still had Arthur in his mouth, and god only knows where he found the condom and lube, because at that point Arthur’s eyes were closed and all he knew was that in one moment Merlin was gone and then he was back, starting to settle himself inside Arthur.

Arthur wrapped his legs around Merlin’s waist and together they tried to find a rhythm. Merlin brought a hand between them to work at Arthur, and the angle was all wrong but it was perfect at the same time. And Arthur stopped leaving red marks on Merlin’s chest in order to pant promises on his mouth.

Soon Merlin lost his pace and then he was coming and Arthur followed him a few moments later.

For a moment the only sound on the bedroom was coming from their elaborated breaths as they both waited for their heartbeats to go back to normal, and then Arthur got out of the bed to take something to clean them up.

“Move in with me,” he proposed when he came back with a cloth.

Merlin sat up and crossed his legs.

 “I’m in love with you, Arthur, there’s no doubt on me about that, but… I need time,” he said, accepting the cloth from Arthur. “I have never being on my own. Ever. Because solitude scared me, but even sharing my life with people I’ve always felt alone,” Merlin laughed, shaking his head. “Does that even make sense? Anyway I need some time, Arthur,” he repeated. “I need to learn how to be on my own.” Merlin took hold of one of Arthur’s hands and placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “If I ask you, would you wait for me?”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to spend some time apart from me?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m just not ready to jump into another relationship just now, Arthur. I can’t just move in with you.” He smiled, “I wanna date you, and I want to be with you. But I need to be independent, you know.”

“I understand. You need space.” Arthur placed a hand on one of Merlin’s knees. Merlin nodded. “Lots of space?”

Merlin covered Arthur’s hand with his and squeezed. “Just a little.”

\---

Merlin was slowly getting back on his feet. He was seeing Kilgharrah regularly now and for the third night in a whole he slept in the bedroom without having nightmares. He still didn’t feel comfortable having sex with Arthur there though, but he was still proud of his baby steps.

He also gave up trying to fit in into _Pendragon_. Merlin already had a job he loved and he was tired of wasting his time on that place. So he hired another lawyer to represent him on the board meeting and took a place on _Avalon’s_ lab on Camelot.

But there was one last thing he had to do before leaving the _Pendragon_ offices for good.

Uther had been trying to talk to him for a long time, and Merlin had tried to distract Arthur every time he approached the subject, but now Merlin decided to face the man he had been not-so-fairly blaming for everything wrong in his life since he was a teenager.

He got to Uther’s door and the secretary let him in.

“Merlin,” Uther greeted him from behind his desk. “Take a sit, please. Can I offer you something, tea or coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

Merlin looked around the room. Uther’s office was pretty much a replica of Arthur’s but bigger, and without the minibar.

There was also a big picture hanging on the right wall.

It was of Balinor and Uther; they had their arms around each other’s shoulders and were grinning at the camera like they had just won the lottery.

“We had just sold our first lot,” Uther explained. “And then we drank all the rest,” he laughed. “Igraine took the picture.” He waited until Merlin looked back at him to continue, “We used to be a knit group, the five of us.”

“Five?”

“Bay and your mother, Igraine and I and Morgause.” In spite of himself, Merlin thought it was quite adorable that Uther had a nickname for his father.

“And Lot?”

“Didn’t come in until later.” Uther sighed, “He is not a bad man. Have you been following the developments on Morgause’s and Agravaine’s cases?”

“No, and I don’t want to know. Not until I have to.” Lamorak had said that Merlin would be called to give his statement in the future but for now he just wanted to keep his distance from all of it. “I’m sorry for ruining your birthday.”

“Thank you for telling me about Morgana.” Merlin didn’t ask how that was going; he knew Morgana was still refusing to see Uther, so he changed the subject instead.

“Why did you change the name of the company?” He asked in a tone that he hoped didn’t sound accusatory, but it was one of the things which bothered him the most.

“Marketing strategy, I suppose,” Uther shrugged, he didn’t seem taken aback by the question. He had probably been expecting something worse from Merlin. “It was Lot’s idea”

“Morgause then,” Merlin snorted.

 _That_ made him fidget, and then was Uther’s time to take the conversation to something that would make Merlin uncomfortable instead of himself.

“You and Arthur,” he began, and stopped to clear his throat, “you are together?”

Merlin felt wrong-footed by Uther’s interest in his love life. “Er – yeah, we – yeah,” he mumbled his response. Uther looked at him with an amused expression which, Merlin noticed, had nothing to do with him stumbling on his own tongue. “Why?”

“Nothing it’s just – you probably won’t remember this but you used to be very protective of Arthur,” he nodded with a fond smile upon his lips.

Merlin had never stopped to consider it, but thinking about it now he imagined Arthur and him most definitely knew each other as kids. “We played together?”

“Not much,” Uther shook his head. “There was an age gap of what? Three years,” he answered his own question. “And by the time Arthur was big enough to play with you –” He paused then, but Merlin still heard the words he didn’t say. By the time Arthur was old enough to play with him Merlin’s parents had died and he had moved away, which meant they didn’t have a lot of time to nourish a friendship.

“Did we get along?” he asked to break the awkward silence.

“Very much so,” Uther nodded, repeating that Merlin was very protective of his son. “One of his cousins, Agravaine – or was it Gaheris?” he shook his head. “I could never tell Morgause’s children apart back then, expect for the pretty one.” He made a gesture with a finger up and down the side of his head, which Merlin supposed it was to represent Gawain’s hair length. “One of them used to enjoy pushing Arthur around, and you,” he pointed at Merlin, “were always there to defend him.”

Merlin smiled at him.

“But that is not the reason I wanted to talk to you, Merlin.” Uther cleared his throat and, if he didn’t know any better, Merlin would say that the man was blushing. He waited for him to continue. “I’ve been meaning to say this to you for twenty-five years, but I couldn’t find the courage to do so.”

“You’re not my father too, right?” Merlin tried to joke but it fell flat.

Uther shook his head, “No, but I took yours from you.” Merlin opened his mouth to – it surprise him when he realised it – to protest, but Uther cut him. “You were right, I took them from you.” He paused again for a short moment and then continued, “Now, I don’t blame myself for the accident.” Merlin nodded, that was on Morgause. “But I still feel like I failed them. I sho –” Uther’s voice faltered. “I should have done _something_.”

“They died instantly.” And really, never in a million years Merlin would have thought that he would be here having this conversation, and trying to defend Uther. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“He saved my life,” Uther announced in a low voice. “Bay saw the tree, and he pushed me out of the car and that’s the only reason I’m here today and not six feet under the ground.”

Merlin felt like he couldn’t breathe, he hadn’t known that. “Vivian, never told me that.”

“She doesn’t know,” Uther explained, and Merlin pretended not to see the tears shining on his eyes. Arthur had always said his father was a proud man. “I am so sorry, Merlin. I had no intention of destroying his image – we can change the name of the company back if you wish.” Merlin shook his head at that, it wouldn’t change anything. “Your father was like a brother to me, and I feel as if I have failed him. And you. And I am sorry, Merlin. That is what I needed to tell you, I needed to apologize.”

Merlin had pictured that image so many times, Uther crying as he begged for Merlin’s forgiveness. He had always thought it would feel good.

It didn’t.

“If there’s something I’ve learned over the years,” Merlin said once it seemed like Uther was done talking. “Is that guilt is destructive, and that there are things that are out of our hands.” Merlin sighed, “I’ve blame you for a long time Uther, not anymore though. But if it makes you feel better –” he stooped to take a deep breath, “I forgive you.”

Uther’s phone rang but he ignored it until it stopped. He opened his mouth to say something and it started to ring again. He apologized to Merlin.

“It’s okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said, getting up. “By the way, I’m resigning,” Merlin announced, making quotation marks with his fingers. He hadn’t even been an employee in the first place.

“Leaving us so soon?” Uther took the phone from the hook but instead of answering it he placed it on the desk, giving Merlin his undivided attention.

“I’m back at _Avalon_ , it’s where I belong. I guess I finally realised that being here won’t bring me closer to my parents,” Merlin admitted.

“I miss them,” Uther confessed before Merlin left. It made Merlin think about how Uther had known his parents for longer than Merlin did. He probably knew them better too. And for the first time Merlin stopped to think about Uther Pendragon as an enemy and started to see him as someone who was on the same place as Merlin.

Uther didn’t take Balinor and Hunith from him. He lost them just as Merlin did.

Arthur was waiting for him outside the office.

“So, where to now?” he asked offering Merlin his hand.

“Home,” he smiled taking hold of Arthur’s hand, “for now let’s just go home.”

“Well, there is my house and then there is your flat,” Arthur said, pulling Merlin against him and wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist, not caring about who might be seeing them. Merlin didn’t care either. “So do enlighten me which one is home?”

Merlin gave him a peck on the tip of his nose and smiled, “ _You_ are home.”

 

 

**::[Soundtrack](http://8tracks.com/veronicafercard/king-s-ale)::**

**Hurt -** Johnny Cash  
**Battles** \- Hudson Taylor  
**Love is Blindness -** Jack White  
**Another Love** \- Tom Odell  
**Another Life to Lose -** Greg Laswell  
**Strange Birds** \- Birdy  
**About Today**  - The National  
**Elevator Song** - Keaton Henson   
**Latch -** Kodaline  
**Mercury** - Sleeping at Last 

**Author's Note:**

> As I said before I don't do a lot of research, so take everything in this fic with a grain of salt. Especially regarding Merlin's mental issues and medication, I'm almost completely sure that my story is EXTREMELY INACCURATE in this regard, and for that I ask the forgiviness of anyone who suffers from the poorly portraited problems I've written.


End file.
